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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25886368">A Mother's Point of View</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatelainedeprovins/pseuds/chatelainedeprovins'>chatelainedeprovins</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lucifer (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>COMPLETE and will be posted before 21 August 2020, Canon Compliant s1-4, starts just after S3 ep 23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 10:29:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>73,667</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25886368</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chatelainedeprovins/pseuds/chatelainedeprovins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Backgrounds and rich motivations are uncovered when Charlotte Richards' second death causes a major shake up in Heaven and Hell, and Chloe's European Holiday leads to much more than a plum-shaped vial of poison. Pandemics, protests and social distancing all rolled up into an over-the-top Luciferian puzzle with cosmic consequences for our favorite couple. Picks up at the end of S3 ep 23 and takes us well past S4. Canon S1-4 plus everything they didn't show you onscreen.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Chloe Decker &amp; Penelope Decker &amp; Trixie Espinoza, Chloe Decker &amp; Trixie Espinoza, Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Dan Espinoza/Original Charlotte Richards, Mazikeen &amp; Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Mazikeen &amp; Original Michael, Trixie Espinoza &amp; Lucifer Morningstar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Favourite Lucifer Fics, Lucifer (TV) Foxy's Collection of long Long Fics, Lucifer and Chloe, Step-Satan is Best Satan, catchingthewindfav</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Disadvantages of Flying First Class</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First fanfic ever. Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Charlotte, what's wrong?”</p><p>Amenadiel quickly furled the wings he had reclaimed just minutes earlier on Earth, sat down on the step before her front door, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The former assistant prosecutor was bent forward, resting her forehead against her knees. Charlotte turned her head slightly and looked over at him with red-rimmed eyes, brimming with fear. She was wearing mascara as she would have on any other Tuesday of her professional life, and likewise she had willed it for today, albeit unwittingly, and so the makeup was smudged by her tears. Because that was the way things worked in Heaven. Just as angels could self-actualize in any realm, so human souls had a fair amount of authority over their reality once freed of their mortal coil, although most remained unaware of it even eons after their deaths.</p><p>“How does anyone manage to keep these white Heavenly robes clean?” she asked, using one of the dagged sleeves to wipe her eyes, and frowning at the brownish streaks.</p><p>“I wouldn't know. Mine are always gray, like my wings.”</p><p>“Well that's patently double-standard.”</p><p>Amenadiel actually admired how she turned to sarcasm in the face of grief. It reminded him of his brother Lucifer. Both he and Charlotte were remarkably resilient, but it still bothered him that something was upsetting her. Most souls were usually a bit more upbeat upon entering Heaven, and as far as he knew Charlotte was the first ever to have experienced a Hell loop <em>and</em> then succeeded in entering the pearly gates.</p><p>“Not everyone who arrives here is issued a standard set of white robes. I never really thought about it before, but I'm pretty sure, you chose them yourself.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I think it's what you must have imagined was appropriate for the occasion. … But more importantly, what's wrong, Charlotte, because I know you're not crying over potential laundry bills? Is it that you miss everyone? Because I can assure you, time <em>does</em> pass differently here for souls. You will see your loved ones again, and it won't seem like decades for you, even if it does for them.”</p><p>“I <em>do </em>miss Dan – what we almost had -- but I wasn't crying about him when you returned.”</p><p>“Then … what?”</p><p>“This isn't going to work.”</p><p>“What's not going to work?”</p><p>“Heaven. This existence. My Heaven loop, if you will.”</p><p>“Charlotte, there are no loops in Heaven.”</p><p>“Really? Because I just walked into my house. The same house I lived in when my husband and I were first married. The house we lived in when our children were younger. The house we bought after I won one of my biggest defense cases ever.</p><p>“I could smell the fresh coffee brewing, and as I approached the kitchen doorway, I could hear the Wheaties hitting the ceramic bowl. … Ever since he was little, Micah insisted. Nothing in the morning but the <em>Breakfast of Champions</em>.</p><p>“And then I hightailed it, and got the Hell out of there!”</p><p>“I'm sorry Charlotte, I don't understand.”</p><p>“Don't you <em>see </em>Amenadiel?! I <em>knew</em> what was coming next, because I had already experienced it hundreds of times.”</p><p>“Life with your family? Morning breakfasts?”</p><p>“No. My Hell loop started just like that. My husband and both the children were there. We were happy, pouring fresh coffee, enjoying breakfast and then suddenly, an accused criminal would appear, aiming a gun. Someone I had defended. Someone who had gotten off scott-free thanks to my efforts, and then he would shoot my family, and I'd be standing there alone, numb, frozen, unable to say a word or take action to stop him. And then it would reset. Same coffee, same cereal, different past client.”</p><p>“Charlotte, that could NEVER happen in Heaven. We have no loops.”</p><p>“I'm sorry Amenadiel. I can't live here. I <em>know</em> what was about to happen.”</p><p>“I promise you, there aren't any loops in Heaven.”</p><p>“I'll just sit out here on the stoop.”</p><p>“There are no homeless people in Heaven, either, Charlotte. Michael would throw a fit if you became the first. He likes things to be …. orderly.”</p><p>“Not homeless. Just unwilling to live inside.”</p><p>Amenadiel laughed and shook his head.</p><p>“Couldn't you just find me a nice quiet corner in purgatory? I mean if Heaven and Hell are the same for me, maybe I don't really belong here.”</p><p>“There is no purgatory. It's just a human idea. And of course you belong here, … but perhaps just not <em>here</em> here,” he said waving toward the front door.”</p><p>“So you mean I could maybe shop the real estate ads for a new place?”</p><p>“Not <em>quite</em>, but … in which indoor space were you most comfortable on the Earthly plane?”</p><p>“You mean like one of the Bungalow Suites overlooking the iconic pool at the Fairmont Miramar in Santa Monica?”</p><p>“Mmmm … maybe something a bit more humble. A place you wouldn't mind spending the day, knowing there wouldn't be a full staff to attend to your every need.”</p><p>“Huh … so cherubs aren't scheduled to start circulating with trays of welcome champagne any moment?” she smirked.</p><p>“Cherubs don't actually exist.”</p><p>Charlotte sighed. “Yeah, I figured. … But to answer your question … the truth is I've never really been a home body. Nor even a vacation body. I'm a doer. I loved work. I spent more time there than anywhere, but I'm guessing there aren't many murderers that need defending here.”</p><p>“Not that need defending, no. If they made it here, they felt no guilt. We have no court system in Heaven or Hell. Humans decide what they deserve. So I guess my next question is … what do you think you deserve?”</p><p>“I think I deserve … I think I deserve the right to keep trying.”</p><p>“Come again?”</p><p>“I used to think that as a defense attorney, I was keeping the system honest. Better the system that lets 10 guilty people go free, if it saves one innocent person from prison – or death, as the case may be.</p><p>“But, obviously, as I learned from my time in Hell, I betrayed those ideals somehow. I wasn't fighting for the one innocent person anymore. Somehow I was just fighting the justice system. Enjoying being clever. Besting the cops. And for what? Money? Ego?”</p><p>“But when you helped put Forest Clay away … you certainly weren't doing that for ego. Or when you jumped in front of that shooter's bullet a short while ago.”</p><p>“Maybe … but even though I'm here, I'm not sure it's enough. I mean, you carried me. I didn't float up here, myself.”</p><p>Amenadiel was intrigued by her line of thought, and didn't feel the need to distract her with explanations of how Azrael typically conducted business.</p><p>“What would you do then? As I said, we don't have a court system.”</p><p>“Surely with all these souls and angels, you must have conflicts.”</p><p>“Weeeeeell,” and Amenadiel rolled his eyes. “Sure … from time to time.”</p><p>“Not just a defense attorney,” Charlotte said tapping her chest. “Experienced mediator and negotiator. I can do tons of contract work, too, if necessary.”</p><p>“Most of the souls are happy to retire, but they do sometimes argue. And there <em>is </em>a lot of paperwork in Heaven, though that's supposed to be Gabe's department. I doubt he'd let a soul near his precious triplicates, but suppose you just turn toward the next doorway over and imagine an office space. Then hang a shingle outside your door – open for business – and we'll just see what happens.”</p><p>“Really? That's it?”</p><p>“It can be hard for souls to create things that are purely fantasy or realities that were never actually a part of their own lives, but if you've lived it on Earth, you shouldn't have any problem realizing it again in Heaven. That's why most people arrive at their front doors.”</p><p>“OK, then.”</p><p>Charlotte took a last swipe at her cheeks with her sleeve, stood tall and faced what looked like a door into another dimension, as there was no structure it lead into yet. She squared her shoulders, closed her eyes and concentrated. A moment later, she knew she was dressed in a sleek, charcoal gray, power Armani suit with a pair of ombre-finish, stiletto Louboutins pinching her toes. She looked down and glared at them.</p><p>“You two can go back to Hell!” And suddenly they were comfortable Kalso Earth shoes.</p><p>“Let's do this,” she added and walked into a room that looked much like her assistant DA office at the precinct.</p><p>-0-</p><p>In some ways, Charlotte Richards' opinion of humans wasn't so different from that of the Goddess of All Creation, who once inhabited her human shell. When the lawyer lived, she believed that growth and development were slow to come to the human race. Sure, throw enough money at a project and you could put a man on the moon in a decade, or develop a vaccine in a year even though it <em>should </em>have taken a decade … or possibly, keep a murderer out of jail despite a confession and a boatload of evidence. But sexism, racism, classism, just to name a few – had there ever been a time they weren't endemic? Would there ever come a time for humanity, when they no longer were?</p><p>As Charlotte discovered, the answer was yes. The problem was, the great equalizer for human souls happens to be death. Social status, gender, skin color, accent, ethnicity – none of it mattered in Heaven. Turns out with no need for money, food, housing and medical care nor any drive for competition or status, there was little for humans to argue over or covet. One might think that old chestnut sex might still provide the impetus for the occasional contretemps, but without <em>actual</em> bodies rather than just their mental projections of them, the critical hormones and nerve endings were sorely lacking. And while yeah, sex may be 90 percent in your head, turns out that other ten percent: thoroughly indispensable.</p><p>That didn't deter where-there's-a-will-there's-a-way Charlotte Richards. There must be a need for her services somewhere in Heaven, even if six months after her body lay six feet under, she still hadn't managed to scrounge up a single client. After setting up her desk and computer, printing up business cards and passing them out at evening socials, visiting her grandmother, whom she hadn't seen she was nine, and leading a remarkable number of stray cats (she didn't know if they were pet cat souls or if the natural fauna of Heaven included it's own version of cats), back home to decorate the shelves of her office, she decided to venture out into uncharted territory.</p><p>“Hello,” she said, addressing a man picnicking on an expanse of lawn along her trajectory. He was dressed in a natural linen robe with an elaborate collar, with wide lines of kohl adorning his eyes. “Can you tell me if I continue this way, where I will end up.”</p><p>“Well, you'll still be in Heaven, but after about twenty minutes of walking, you should see a forest of a tree. But on the way, I cannot say.”</p><p>“I'm sorry?” She thought it would be rude to outright correct him, given he was going to the effort to speak her language, and doing rather well, but clarification couldn't hurt.</p><p>“Well, you'll be passing one of the main housing developments. But what it will look like to you, I cannot predict. I see pyramids, small ones, mind you. Nothing like a Pharaoh's. Some people see charming stone cottages, while a good friend says they look like small but elaborate single-family mausoleums straight out of an 19th-century American cemetery.”</p><p>“That's … fascinating. Both you and your friend associate the structures with death, and yet it sounds as though you come from such different backgrounds … and eras.”</p><p>“Not everyone feels the same about Heaven. I find that community particularly dead. You, though, your soul glows with life.”</p><p>Charlotte recalled early in her acquaintance when Ella Lopez told her she saw nothing but darkness behind her eyes. Perhaps she <em>had</em> truly earned her place here, despite her doubts.</p><p>“It <em>does</em>?” she asked, easing herself down onto the lawn a few feet from the edge of his luncheon.</p><p>“Particularly your palms. They look as though Isis, herself, grabbed you by the hands, and pulled you from the afterlife to live again.”</p><p>Charlotte stared at her palms, considering whether she should share her history. “I'm sorry, I can't see the glow.”</p><p>“Not surprising,” he nodded, and gestured toward a platter. Charlotte smiled her thanks and took a few candied dates. “Each of us can only see ourselves as we're used to, particularly in the beginning. I shall be interested to know what you observe on your journey.”</p><p>“Egyptians of your time revered cats, didn't they?”</p><p>The man tilted his head a bit, nonplussed by her non-sequitur. “They did, and I did … I was very fond of them. I haven't seen one in thousands of years, though.”</p><p>“But they're everywhere.”</p><p>“<em>Are they</em>?” he asked glancing about.</p><p>“I've already adopted a dozen strays.”</p><p>“Fascinating.”</p><p>“Would you like to meet them?”</p><p>“I would be honored.”</p><p>The lawyer reached into her inside jacket pocket and handed the man a card. “I'm Charlotte Richards, by the way. This is my address. Why don't you come by at this time in two days. I can tell you what I saw on my walk, and you can pet the cats.”</p><p>“I shall be there, Counselor Richards,” he said, noting her title. “This is most auspicious. We've never had an advocate in Heaven before. And forgive my tardy manners, I am Mery, High Priest of Osiris.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>She walked for what seemed like far longer than 20 minutes, yet she wasn't the least tired. There was no possibility of a wrong turn, the pathway didn't intersect any others, unless she was supposed to have crossed the fields, but if that were the case, why have a pathway? Eventually, she could hear it though. There was a gentle breeze and millions upon millions of leaves were rustling. And then she saw it, exactly as Mery had said: a forest of tree.</p><p>One massive Banyan, standing some thirty stories at its core, but with a canopy that traveled for miles in all directions. Its branches spiraled from the center, dropping seed that would spring forth into new growths, clinging vinelike to their mother trunk but then shoring the parent up over time as they strengthened with their burgeoning girth. Meanwhile. new roots curled down from larger branches that thickened into auxiliary trunks and continued a relentless organic cycle. If there were such a thing as The Tree of Life, surely this must be it, Charlotte thought, endlessly growing, nurturing, renewing itself with subsequent generations. Parts of the tree had been espaliered as well. While young and pliable, many of the branches had been trained, braided and woven together to form the outer walls and openings of dwelling spaces. Hundreds, as far as she could see. As she approached, one of the inhabitants regarded her through a window, then unfurled her dark wings and took flight toward Charlotte.</p><p>“I'm sorry if I'm trespassing. I didn't know it was forbidden.”</p><p>“It's not,” the young woman, in an odd combination of cat t-shirt, 1980s jean skirt and linen cloak, said. “So, we meet again Charlotte Richards.”</p><p>The lawyer stared for several seconds at the angel with the horribly unfashionable bowl haircut, but then suddenly made the connection, and grew wary. “You're ...”</p><p>“Azrael. Angel of Death, at everyone's service at least once.”</p><p>“You brought me to Hell.”</p><p>“Brought is a strong word. Really, humans take themselves. It's more like I show you the elevator door, but you press the button.”</p><p>“And I chose B for Basement?”</p><p>“You told me you were working with the FBI to take down a drug kingpin when you were murdered. Without that resolution, you must have felt you didn't deserve the penthouse. But then … well, I couldn't believe the paperwork when I first saw it. Of course, there've been close calls from time to time. Someone drowns in icy waters, but then they're back down the elevator 30 minutes later. But you – you were downstairs for months before Earth again. And now you're here. I believe that's a first.”</p><p>“I had a little help … from forces I'm not sure I'll ever understand … and your brothers Lucifer and Amenadiel. All of you <em>are </em>brothers and sisters, yes? Or are there different angel families, somehow?”</p><p>“Same parents. One big, dysfunctional family. Lu's always been my favorite, though.” Azrael made to reach out her hands toward Charlotte's. “You're hurt.”</p><p>Charlotte raised her hands palms up in response to the angel's gesture, but again she saw nothing out of the ordinary.</p><p>“Did you burn them somehow? Wait,” she said putting her hands together and closing her eyes. She spoke aloud though, “Raph, emergency now, STAT.”</p><p>In seconds, an angel she easily could believe was Lucifer's brother appeared. He was more old-fashioned looking, though, with saffron robes and long, dark curly hair and wings as large as Lucifer's though with a tawny hue. His eyebrows shot up in alarm as soon as he noticed Charlotte's hands.</p><p>“Are you in great pain? I could calm them with a feather.”</p><p>“What? <em>No</em>. You're the third person who's thought there was a problem with my hands, but I feel fine. And they look completely normal to me.”</p><p>“But they're glowing!” he insisted, sidling up behind her and giving her a little shove. “Come into my lab. I need to examine them.”</p><p>When Charlotte was a tween, she spent a fair number of Friday nights babysitting to Penelope Decker's '80s cheeseball sci-fi flicks. Admittedly, she only heard harp practice at the moment – not stock-in-trade ominous music in the background – but her gut cried “no way you're setting foot into some supernatural being's <em>laboratory</em>, much less both hands.”</p><p>Sensing her hesitation, Azrael replied, “Really, it's OK. He's the Angel of Healing. He patches. He isn't going to pickle you.”</p><p>“I'm sure she'll find that <em>quite</em> reassuring, sister,” Raph said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>It was only a few words, and yet, she could admit to herself, she didn't find him terribly threatening. Fact was, he rather looked like a grown up version of one of those bored little angels that were printed all over everything from greeting cards to souvenir silk ties. Would that make Lucifer the other scamp? She knew the pair – not identical twins but clearly brothers of similar age – were part of a much larger painting, but couldn't recall the name. They had quite the ironic effect in contrast to the Madonna and infant, though.</p><p>“I don't suppose your lab could be any worse than my Hell loop,” she shrugged. “Been there, done that. Left the ashy t-shirt behind because the stains wouldn't wash out.”</p><p>“But <em>how</em>? No one's ever redeemed themselves from Hell before.”</p><p>“Short version: I was brutally murdered and your sister here sent me downstairs. At the same time, your Mother took off for the Earthly plane like a proverbial bat out of Hell. My body was vacant, she moved in, and did a little renovation work so it would function again. According to Lucifer, after a few months her powers returned exponentially like a nuclear reactor suffering from Pepsi Syndrome and would have taken out most of California if he hadn't found her a new universe to inhabit. <em>That</em> left my mortal coil vacant and healthy again, and afterwards … well, something just kind of tugged me back.</p><p>“If you want the long version, though, I'm going to need alcohol. Strictly medicinal, of course.”</p><p>“Of course,” he said, waving her deeper into the tangled maze of trunks that apparently housed the entire heavenly host. “Surely, you've heard that old ditty, In Heaven There is No Beer.”</p><p>“Not a problem. I'd prefer a gimlet, anyway.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>“And so <em>apparently</em>, Father Mery, you were right.”</p><p>Charlotte poured coffee and handed the two men seated in her office each a cup.</p><p>“Back in the 19<sup>th</sup> dynasty, we Priests of Osiris didn't go by the title Father. Not like my dog-collar-wearing friend Frank, here. Just plain Mery will do … but about what do you believe I was correct?” he asked, petting a large and lean Abyssinian, who'd settled on his lap.</p><p>“You said I looked like I was pulled from the afterlife by Isis.”</p><p>“Yes, because you're brimming with light.”</p><p>“Raphael hypothesizes that my soul was sucked out from Hell by the vacuum caused by the Mother of All Angels leaving my body for another universe. However, a bit of her was still occupying as I entered, and I suppose you could say we shook hands for a moment. It left a mark.”</p><p>“Wait, <em>what</em>?” asked Father Frank. “Lucifer and his siblings have a mother?”</p><p>“Monotheists,” said Mery, shaking his head. “<em>That's</em> what you choose to focus on after hearing such a tale?!”</p><p>It took at least an hour before Charlotte managed to catch them both up on all aspects of her experience and knowledge of the celestial and infernal planes as well as their respective inhabitants. And then it was Father Frank's turn to explain his all-too-brief friendship with the King of Hell. None of the three were in a hurry, though. Especially Mery, who moved over to the couch with the Abys, so a gray Persian and a Burmese could pile in next to him. Eventually, though, he admitted he had another motive in accepting her invitation, and that he brought Frank with, suspecting he'd also be a useful ally.</p><p>“I suspected as much after your comment about my being the first advocate in Heaven.”</p><p>“It's not that souls won't help each other out,” replied Father Frank, “or don't usually manage to settle their minor disagreements between each other reasonably. Just … when you want to do something out of the ordinary here, it's hard to obtain permission. And not because the Almighty denies your request, but because you don't even know who to visit to ask. There are rules, but you don't find out about them until you've accidentally violated one. And it can take decades for someone to explain to you a procedure or how to make a request.”</p><p>“How … unorganized,” frowned Charlotte.</p><p>“Yes, and consequently for millennia, I've had a request that's gone nowhere.”</p><p>He watched her carefully as Charlotte nodded for him to continue.</p><p>First turning to his companion, Mery said, “Now pay close attention my Yahwist friend. You're about to learn far more about resurrections than you ever did at Sunday school.</p><p>“Once upon a time, I lived a good and righteous life. I served my Pharaoh, Queen and Temple, bringing honor to my family. Travelers from a land far south of Egypt came one season and brought deadly illness with them. I was one of the unlucky ones, but I was not afraid to wake in the Afterlife for I knew I had done good works. My heart was as light as a feather.”</p><p>Charlotte raised an eyebrow, knowing full well there was a time on Earth when she seemingly felt precisely the same.</p><p>“When I arrived, crossing the great river between one realm and the next, I met my new Lord, as I fully expected, however he preferred another name to the one by which I knew him.”</p><p>“You expected that God would go by Osiris?”</p><p>“The Almighty here in Heaven? I would have called him Amun, but Osiris would rule over the dead, and my new liege introduced himself as Lucifer.”</p><p>“Wait,” interjected Father Frank. “You mean you, too, went to Hell?”</p><p>“None of us thought of it as Hell at the time. It was the Afterlife. Good or bad, you all went to the same place. You were shown to your quarters, but then it was up to you what happened.”</p><p>“What was it like for you, Mery?” asked Charlotte.</p><p>“Quite <em>different --</em> an existence full of offers and deals and choices. I never had so much freedom in my life on Earth.”</p><p>“So you could do whatever you wanted?” wondered Father Frank.</p><p>“Not hardly. You could choose what you wanted to be, what kind of domicile you wished to live in, but you also had to cope with the consequences. When you arrived, you were shown to a space, much as we are here in Heaven, and you could wish it to be however you wanted – a vast palace, a humble tent or anything in between – but you were responsible for your choice as well. The rich man who imagined he deserved a castle soon found it could be quite difficult to care for without servants. And yes, to be sure, there were those of low birth who might be available to work for the rich man, however, without his Earthly gold, he would need to figure out a way to earn his own keep as well. Slavery was forbidden. Lucifer, himself, had staff, guards, employees of every sort, all native residents of his realm and therefore his legal subjects – the demons – but none were slaves.</p><p>“Some souls tried to exchange their Earthly wealth for equivalent coin in the Afterlife, promising the contents of their pyramids and lesser tombs to our new Lord. He was known to visit the other plane from time to time and needed currency there, but the souls quickly learned that across eternity, even their vast burial riches would run out.”</p><p>“Who would have thought that Hell would be so democratizing?” marveled Father Frank.</p><p>“So no matter whether you lived a good or horrible life, you were given this chance?”</p><p>“Not exactly. As I said, we were all shown to our quarters. Those who felt guilty existed in their spaces much as you did Advocate Richards.”</p><p>“Instead of imagining their dream houses, they formed self-torture loops?”</p><p>“The doors were never locked, but they never chose to come and go as the rest of us. They kept to themselves in their own worlds … but there were windows into their dwellings, and we could watch, lend words of encouragement or hope. Sometimes, there would be a moment of recognition. A parent and a child would reconnect for a second, or a husband and wife, good friends might see eye to eye. One day, over a game of Hounds and Jackals, Lucifer told me he believed one day they would all choose to rejoin us.”</p><p>“You're saying he believed in the possibility of redemption then?” asked Frank. “Because the Lucifer I met on Earth was quite certain his Father would reject him for eternity.”</p><p>“For good reason. My story isn't finished yet.”</p><p>“But meanwhile the rest of you – the just souls – you wandered about as we do here?” asked Frank.</p><p>“With quite a bit more purpose, actually. We needed to form a society, earn our keep; we hadn't endless years of leisure and nostalgia ahead of us. Those with skills built, created goods, tended crops and animals. Those with knowledge taught. Others looked for niches they could fill or imagined services they could offer that no one had ever wanted until that moment. As time progressed and our population grew, new thoughts, new skills, new languages arrived, and the older generations became students again. Here in Heaven we all hear the same language regardless of what is spoken. In the Afterlife, we souls had to learn every tongue the old-fashioned way. Lucifer required that we all contribute meaningfully, though we could choose the manner, and in exchange, he provided the means for merriment and relaxation on our weekly feast days.”</p><p>“So you're telling me Lucifer formed a veritable Utopia for all? … What happened?”</p><p>“You tell me, <em>Father</em> Frank. You're trained in the beliefs of your church.”</p><p>Frank just stared at Mery, trying to parse it all out. Seconds passed as the ancient Priest of Osiris, patiently waited for the other sandal to drop.</p><p>“The Harrowing of Hell. It was <em>real</em>? To be honest, I always assumed it was a metaphor.”</p><p>“Got it in one,” smiled Mery.</p><p>“Sorry guys,” said Charlotte, tapping her chest. “From a secular humanist upbringing here – at least until my own trip to Hell. What's this Harrowing all about?”</p><p>“The Church tells us, following his crucifixion, Jesus descended into Hell,” answered Frank. “And then brought all the righteous followers of God who had died before him up to Heaven. And forever after, the good rose to Heaven, and the wicked sank down below.”</p><p>“So just to recap here … Lucifer's half brother was real?!”</p><p>“No!” shouted both Mery and Frank at the same time.</p><p>“Allow me?” asked Frank.</p><p>“By all means, please continue,” returned Mery.</p><p>“As I learned on my arrival at the Gates, though Jesus was real, he was only a son of God in the sense that we're all children of God. He was human through and through.”</p><p>“But he <em>did</em> have some different ideas,” added Mery. “And an unimaginable amount of faith in his correctness. He believed he <em>could</em>, and therefore he <em>did</em>. When that Newbie from Nazareth told Lucifer what parlor trick he was about to play, our Lord laughed so hard we thought he might cough up a lung. We all did. It was preposterous, yet the next thing we knew whether we were children of Yahweh or not, we were all being tugged along a slipstream of irresistible and unexplainable physics. We assumed our Lord would follow in time, and even the heavy-hearted who remained in their rooms, but to this date, there has been no sign.”</p><p>“Lucifer would have viewed that as a message from his Father: that he would never be forgiven,” noted Frank, looking down at his hands. “No wonder he was so bitter when I met him.”</p><p>“And more than that,” Charlotte added, “His first family cast him out and rejected him for rebelling, for wanting nothing more than to choose his own path. Then he tried to make the best of it without them – shaped a new society, a new family of sorts for himself, something to prove to his Father his ideas would work. And <em>then</em> the better half of what he'd created was ripped away from him, leaving him only the wicked and damaged. What person wouldn't take that as a damning message?!”</p><p>“Precisely,” nodded Mery, “and that leads right into why I need your assistance. This will likely be the biggest challenge of your career yet, Counselor.”</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>“First, I need you to appeal to the proper authorities, so that I may return to the original location of the Afterlife – to Hell. My son, Wenennefer, still resides there. I don't know what he did to cause his guilt, but it has been <em>millennia</em>, and he has had no family or friends to encourage or comfort him through his isolation and torment. There are many others, too, who would wish to revisit loved ones.</p><p>“And furthermore, we have another duty now.”</p><p>“And that is?” asked Charlotte, overwhelmed but also intrigued.</p><p>“We need to rescue our king. To put it in terms you youngsters use nowadays we need to hash up a tag and SaveLucifer.”</p><p>Charlotte held in her smile, but just barely. “That's very noble of you, Mery, but Lucifer's on Earth now.”</p><p>“You haven't been watching your flatscreen, have you?” asked Frank.</p><p>“My flatscreen?”</p><p>“Yes, your telly-vision,” answered Mery as he started snooping about the office, checking behind curtains and artworks for one of the usually ubiquitous screens.</p><p>“Oh, right – this is your office – but surely there's one in your home,” added Frank. “You know, so you can check up on loved ones in your leisure time.”</p><p>“I beg your pardon?”</p><p>“Well surely you remember … in the boring welcome speech. Ismordiel would have explained to you how it worked. The flatscreens are standard issue in every home.”</p><p>
  <em>I'm going to kill Amenadiel!</em>
</p><p>Charlotte leaned her head forward, her face buried in her hands. “Apparently the first class flight up to the Silver City didn't include all the tiresome details. … So tell me gentlemen, what did I miss?”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Charlotte phoned the communications office and made an appointment for a tech consultant to explain the ins and outs of what resources were truly at her disposal in the Silver City. It took Charlotte the full two days until that rendez-vous to muster up the courage to step into her as yet still unused dwelling, pluck the flatscreen off the livingroom wall, bring it back to her office and follow the Ikea-like installation instructions for the wall bracket so she could mount the damn thing.</p><p>Turns out (<em>surprise, surprise</em>) the rules for watching loved ones were quirky. First, the person had to be alive on Earth. Apparently it was perfectly OK to spy on the living, but you couldn't watch what was up with anyone in Heaven or Hell. Second, the person had to be human. It was impossible to check on celestials or demons, even if they were on Earth. And third, no spying on random people just for the heck of it; nor other people's friends or relatives that you'd only heard of; nor (God forbid, or rather he would if he cared) celebrities you were fanning over. You have to actually know the party in question, not just know <em>of</em> them.</p><p>The system was interesting in other ways, too. Of course, you could start at the beginning, or perhaps just drop in at a regular time each day, week or annual holidays. Fast forwarding to any moment up to Earth's present or scrolling back to a favorite moment was child's play. It was all originally set up some decades back by a couple of deceased wannabe reality TV writers, which is to say they pitched their ideas at every turn back on Earth in the 1950s, but no one believed it would be popular as it ultimately became a few decades later. Heaven had acquired a few other screen entertainment options toward the end of the 20<sup>th</sup> century, including several soap operas from diverse countries, all three seasons of the original <em>Lost in Space</em>, streaming ESPN, everything on RAI (because <em>someone</em> at the Vatican owed someone else in the Silver City a favor), SNL, everything on BBC 4, the morning version of the Singapore National Anthem and the test pattern that preceded it as well as both <em>It's A Wonderful Life</em> and <em>Oh, God</em> running on endless loops. But <em>none</em> of these were even half as popular as <em><b>Lives of Your Loved Ones:</b></em> <em>The Custom Series</em>.</p><p>Before then, checking up on family involved some pretty dicey acrobatics, bouncing mirror reflections off of other shiny surfaces ad nauseum or popping up in other people's dreams. With Lives of Your Loved Ones, you could relax in the comfort of your own cell in Heaven and become that veritable fly on someone else's wall. No embarrassing bathroom or racy sex scenes, of course – Heaven was bankrolling this venture, for God's sake – but otherwise endless raw footage of those you cared about most. For a fee, you could get artfully edited content set to music. And rumor had it, the original writers were now trying to get approval for some kind of universal Skype link to allow an interactive viewing experience.</p><p>After reading the instruction manual, entering her username and password, Charlotte was prompted to enter the name of the loved one she wished to watch. E-S-P-I-N-O-Z-A, D-a-n-i-e-l, she typed, followed by 8 May 2018, the date where she wished to begin. Charlotte imagined it would have taken some hours for someone to have found her body. Amenadiel wouldn't have bothered calling it in. He was too focused on comforting her and taking her to Heaven. By the next morning there was a good chance Dan would know, and really, she still wasn't sure she was ready to see his grief unfold, but she did want to know the name of her murderer. She skipped ahead to about 10 a.m., and she saw Dan burst into a conference room at the station, confronting Chloe and Lucifer.</p><p>D: “<em>Try not to react. If anyone realizes what we know, our lives are in danger.”</em></p><p>
  <em>C: “Okay. Okay. What's up, Dan?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>D: “I figured out who killed Charlotte.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>C: “What?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>D: “It was Pierce.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>L: “What are talking about, Daniel? Why would he do that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>D: “Charlotte was investigating him.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>C: “She was, why?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>D: “That's the craziest part. Pierce … Pierce is the Sinnerman.”</em>
</p><p>“Pierce killed me?! Had he caught wind of the Sinnerman investigation?”</p><p>Charlotte scrolled back to the main menu and entered another name.</p><p>
  <b>The individual you have entered is no longer in the program's parameters.</b>
</p><p><em>So …,</em> Charlotte noted to herself. <em>Option 1: Did a runner and assumed another identity. Definitely his MO, but you'd think our heavenly show runners would see through such a ruse. Option 2: Dead?</em></p><p>Charlotte typed his name into the tri-plane-a-tary Rolodex.</p><p>
  <b>PIERCE, Marcus. (see Cain, primary listing)</b>
</p><p>
  <b>b. 271,436 BCE </b>
</p><p>
  <b>d. 2018 CE</b>
</p><p>The list of aliases went on for six pages.</p><p>
  <b>Current Location: Hell</b>
</p><p>
  <em>So they must have confronted him? Or maybe he was killed by an associate? A competitor? God, please don't let it be Dan. It's going to be hard enough to eventually get him here as it is.</em>
</p><p>She returned to her flatscreen and continued watching from where she had left off, and then switched to DECKER, Chloe's perspective when the Detective and Lucifer separated from Dan and Ella.</p><p>
  <em>C: “Okay. I believe you. I don't want to die and I can't, not without stopping you.”</em>
</p><p>When Pierce's henchman fired at Chloe and she fell backwards Charlotte found herself reliving her own shooting, caught and comforted by an angel, but Chloe must not have died because watching this was still possible. The visuals and audio were garbled at this point. Charlotte assumed Chloe was in and out of consciousness. A few moments later, she saw why as Chloe came running down the stairs and back to the room where she had been shot.</p><p>“<em>Detective ….”</em></p><p>“<em>It's all true. It's all true.”</em></p><p>As Chloe slowly inched backwards, she eventually bumped into the stairs and fell into a sitting position. She was still staring at Lucifer, wide-eyed, unable to look away. He cocked his head, puzzled by her reaction, but then he happened to look down, and he saw his hands.</p><p>“No, no, no, no, NO!”</p><p>A second later he unfurled his wings, bloody and mutilated but still apparently workable, and flew back through the broken skylight above the rotunda.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Mery and Father Frank reconvened with Charlotte a week after her first visit, allowing her sufficient time to catch up, make notes and study the situation.</p><p>“Ah, I see you've ordered up a second flatscreen, Counselor. Come on Mr. Chub-a-lub, it's time for a manicure,” he spoke softly, inviting a corpulent tabby to climb from a shelf onto his shoulders.</p><p>“Not a second. Father Frank was correct. There was one in my house.”</p><p>“But you hadn't noticed it?”</p><p>“I choose not to live there. I sleep little, but when I do, I just take a nap on the couch.”</p><p>“There were many like you in the Afterlife. Souls who preferred to be engaged with society rather than cloistered. That reminds me … I told you I'd be eager to hear what you saw on your stroll toward the Forest of Tree.</p><p>“Well, it was interesting, I suppose. I saw a California style Bungalow Court. And at first, I wondered for awhile why you and the friend you mentioned should see burial structures, while I saw something quite different. But then I recalled one of the last articles I read in <em>LA Architecture</em>, shortly before dying, was about the likely extinction of this once charming style – mainly because it's not cost effective to renovate these type of dwellings. Developers would prefer to bulldoze and rebuild something with more units. Unlike you -- I don't know any of the souls that reside there – but I think I was influenced merely by your idea of them.”</p><p>“You might be on to something, Charlotte,” said Frank. “I'm the friend who saw the mausoleums, by the way. I used to travel through New Orleans years back. Before I was a priest, I was a traveling musician – a pianist. I visited every year for the Jazz Festival, and I remember one afternoon wandering around one of the old cemeteries as well as the French quarter and just thinking how there was this eerie haunting sense of people living in the past there.</p><p>“It happens with some souls, too. They sit glued to their screens watching children and grand-children. Never realizing that while their life <em>on Earth</em> may be over, it doesn't mean their life is over. Some of them just pass the time waiting for grandchildren to arrive here, and then they watch their great grandchildren's lives together. Somehow they managed to leave more behind in their graves than their corpses. And since like minds tend to gravitate toward each other, I think they inadvertently formed a neighborhood.”</p><p>“And this is something I cannot abide,” said Mery. “There may be a few bright spots in the firmament of the heavens, but overall it's an aimless group. The angels tolerate us because they believe their father wants them to, but they're eager to keep their distance as well. These immortals could be providing structure for us, guidance, direction, <em>Purpose</em>.</p><p>“I told you I wanted to petition <em>someone</em> for permission to travel to Hell, both for my son and my king. But it's more than that. I need to do it for <em>myself</em>, as well, and I suspect there will be many who will join in this cause. I <em>know </em>several from before the Harrowing will, but others, too. There are those who have already given up, but there are also those who are restless. Eager to make sure it doesn't happen to themselves in time.”</p><p>“Well in that case,” smiled Charlotte, “I have tasks to assign. As you start gathering your army Mery, ask each of them to fill out one of these forms in triplicate. I have it on good authority that we'll need plenty of paperwork when we start filing our requests.</p><p>“And Father Frank, could you start asking around to find as many souls who knew and would be willing to watch Detectives Decker and Espinosa and this list of others close to Lucifer, 24/7. We can't be certain he's in Hell, so we need to know if he attempts to make contact with anyone. Tell them to pay particular attention to any conversations with Maze and Amenadiel, since they might know more and can't be followed on the flatscreen unless they're interacting with a human we can follow.</p><p>“I think that's it, and I imagine it will keep the both of you busy for the next few weeks. Don't hesitate to drop by if anyone hears anything critical. Do either of you have any additional suggestions?”</p><p>“No,” nodded Mery, “I think this will make a fine start.”</p><p>“There is, perhaps one thing,” added Frank.</p><p>“Yes?”</p><p>“Pray.”</p><p>“To God?”</p><p>“You might, but I was thinking of someone else this time. You told us about Lucifer's mother, and what he told you about her, what she was like. … And since you had a sort of special connection,” added Frank, gesturing to her hands, “Perhaps she would intervene if you asked.”</p><p>“Oh, that's good Frank … we'll make a pagan convert of you, yet!”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Perks of Basic Economy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After seemingly endless investigations by the LAPD's IA, the FBI, the CIA and Interpol – those latter two because naturally Pierce could not have been content to operate as a crime boss stateside only – Chloe Decker was growing weary of being shuttled from one interrogation to the next. She knew now that Lucifer had told her the truth when he insisted that Pierce was Cain, aka the world's first murder. She didn't know when he was actually born, but she had heard whispers that agents had uncovered a meticulously maintained filing system of contacts, victims, targets, crimes and favors going back centuries to Europe and possibly to the Middle East before that. While she knew now, he just kept reinventing himself over and over, the agents had interpreted the files of death certificates and wills to indicate the Sinnerman organization had been passed down from father to son or occasional nephew for generations.</p><p>Chloe was being treated as a suspicious party. Not surprising, really, since she had still been engaged to the man just days before he was discovered dead on the floor of a classic downtown, pre-WWII artists' haven with an exotic blade – and only the fingerprints of <em>his</em> pulverized hand on it – rammed through his chest. She, too, had been discovered there – sitting on the steps of the building's elaborate staircase while leaning against a newel post that had been sheared off at the top – insensate and repeating the same phrase over and over: “It's all true.”</p><p>After six weeks, she was called to Suite 1072, and was certain her career was about to end. How could it not? After Palmetto, after it being discovered her ex-husband had been aiding another dirty cop, after the canceled engagement to Pierce <em>and </em>sudden disappearance of her civilian consultant partner of the past three years. It was hopeless. The best she could expect was that the terrible press it would no doubt cost her might generate some next generation interest in <em>Hot Tub High School</em> so some residuals would trickle in during her unemployment.</p><p>Exiting the elevator on the tenth floor she turned left and walked directly to the Chief of Police's office, took a calming breath and knocked.</p><p>“You look like shit Decker,” noted Olivia Monroe, who honestly looked like she was managing to juggle all her new duties as well as the stress of this entire clusterfuck with aplomb.</p><p>“<em>Thanks</em>.”</p><p>“Come on in,” the police chief added, giving Chloe's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. The Detective was on high alert, hoping for any clues hinting that perhaps she could get out of this with just a temporary suspension and a year of desk duty, but she suspected that was a pipe dream. Olivia just had a way with people, even when she was going to let them down.</p><p>“So, first thing I wanted to say,” said Olivia as she was easing into her deskchair, “was that if you have any contact whatsoever with your civilian consultant, please give him our best wishes. I'd send chocolates, but Dr. Martin said she couldn't divulge the location of his clinic.”</p><p>“I – wait, <em>what</em>?”</p><p>“We received the letters from Dr. Linda Martin.”</p><p>“The letters?”</p><p>“His therapist, Dr. Martin, explained that the events up to and including the death of Marcus Pierce were traumatizing, and that he's currently in seclusion at a private clinic, dealing with his grief.”</p><p>“His grief?”</p><p>“Well sure, Decker. You know a few years ago, he came to me wanting to work with you. He said he was eager to explore his mortality, and I was kinda wary, but well, you know how he is when he wants something and he does have great connections. He wasn't trained for this job as you or I were, though. I'm sure he doesn't know the first thing about compartmentalizing, staying objective … you know, the drill.”</p><p>“Right. Yeah, you're right.”</p><p>“That said, his lawyers have provided witnessed statements giving his testimony regarding his, your, Espinosa and Lopez's involvement in catching that wily bastard. His friend the bounty hunter, what's her name?”</p><p>“Mazikeen Smith.”</p><p>“Yeah, Maze – also very helpful leading us to evidence.”</p><p>“Um – okay, so are you saying I'm no longer a suspect?”</p><p>“Unofficially, well, you know how it went with Palmetto. You didn't rack up any Brownie Points with this, but no, you're not going to be prosecuted or canned.”</p><p>Chloe let out a visible breath. “What next, then?”</p><p>“Getting to that. Hold on,” she added picking up the phone. “Marsh, sorry, please hold all calls for another 30 minutes. … Yeah, not unless there's an earthquake <em>and</em> the building's on fire.</p><p>“Sorry … so I don't usually go behind my officers' backs and give partners or spouses information first, but this was kind of a special case, and the fact is, I really want you to say yes – wanted you to be <em>able </em>to say yes – so I had to make sure it was set up right.”</p><p>“Ooookay?”</p><p>“So I talked to your ex-husband first. I want him off duty for at least a month. I know he and Richards were close, and you should know, even though I'm not supposed to say anything yet, you four were right. Ballistics matched a gun with two bullets missing and tucked into a desk at Pierce's hideout to the one that killed the assistant DA. Espinoza needs to grieve now that it's all over.”</p><p>“Sure. Yes, absolutely.”</p><p>“And so I asked him, if while he was taking that time away, if he could watch your daughter full time for a month?”</p><p>“Er … Trixie? But why?”</p><p>“So you would genuinely consider the following. Lafayette from Interpol pointed out the U.S. has been taking a lot of flak over its prison system. Truth is we have crap figures on recidivism and reintegration of ex-cons. <em>Have you seen the endless TedTalks on how we have to change our approach?”</em></p><p>“A few, yeah. But I mean, I'm probably the last person you want to ask about this stuff. It killed me when I learned Joe Fields was going to be allowed time off for his grand-daughter's christening. I mean I know now that he didn't kill my dad, and the whole thing was a set up anyway, but I was prepared for him to spend his life in prison when I believed he was guilty. I really was.”</p><p>“Decker, compartmentalize! You're not the grieving daughter anymore. You're Detective Chloe Decker, homicide. Is it possible for someone to kill, regret it, do their time and deserve a second chance?”</p><p>“I … Olivia, I just don't know. But for other crimes, sure.”</p><p>“Well the point of this is I want you to represent the LAPD at a multinational justice seminar in Europe. You'll start in Spain where there's a tour of a 'family friendly' prison and a couple of discussion panels with experts on humanitarian sentencing. Then you'll have two and half weeks off to travel on your own before heading to London for a meeting with a psychologist who works with serious criminals who will be one day released back into society. And finally Norway to tour what's come to be known as Europe's most luxurious prison. It's supposedly very IKEA.”</p><p>“I … um … wow.”</p><p>“Elegant, Decker,” added the police chief with a huff. “Obviously we'll be paying for your flight and accommodation during the events. I couldn't get finance to approve the cost of the accommodations between events, though, so you'd have to cover the two weeks on your own. But you're not on suspension, so you're at full pay the entire time.”</p><p>“Sure. I mean, if I can. I need to think it over.”</p><p>“Not a no, at least.”</p><p>“No. Definitely not a no. Let me just, you know, confirm with Dan and Trixie. Think about it a bit.”</p><p>“Right. Let me know by Monday if it's a go.”</p><p>“Will do, Chief. And … thanks for considering me.”</p><p>“Make us proud Decker.”</p><p>“No pressure then,” snorted Chloe as she rose from her chair and turned toward the door.</p><p>As she approached the elevator and pressed the down button, Chloe pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to Linda.</p><p>You: Linda, need to talk to you. Pretty sure you know why.</p><p>Linda: Tomorrow morning 10:30, my place?</p><p>You: See you then.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Pulling her Charger into the driveway of the Venice Beach house set off a cascade of memories, reminding her of the days of melancholy and frustration when she and Dan weren't sure if the separation would be permanent. But there were brief moments of exhilaration, too, when Lucifer would barge in and take her day in a direction she never would have predicted possible. And while those instances were also sometimes frustrating and often embarrassing, there were a few rare moments Chloe cherished as well.</p><p>She meandered alongside the garage where Penelope's mauve wisteria cleaved to the wall and cascaded across the loggia. The vine had been shading the walkway for years since Chloe gave her the plant on Mother's Day some 28 years earlier. She kept walking past the back deck and toward the shoreline, pausing a moment on dry sand to leave her boots and socks behind before heading to the very edge of the tide.</p><p>
  <em>So … the actual Devil, huh? Kind of makes me feel like my detective's badge isn't worth much more than the plastic kind you used to be able to get when you mailed in a handful of cereal box tops. The truth was literally staring me in the face everyday … at least when it wasn't busy annoying me with bad sex puns or the smell of Cool Ranch Puffs in a stuffy car on a stakeout.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And if you never lie … does that mean you're having Linda cover for you now or are you really holed up in some fancy-schmancy clinic for the rich and famous without cellphone service?</em>
</p><p><em>You did the right thing, you know. God, I hope </em><b>that's</b> <em>not what you're traumatized over. I know what it feels like. I shot Malcolm to protect Trixie, you, myself, and I'd do it again and again and again, but that doesn't mean I didn't feel horrible afterward. But it also doesn't mean you </em><b>are</b> <em>horrible.</em></p><p>
  <em>I want you to know, though, I have a shitload of processing and questions, and yeah, I </em>
  <b>am</b>
  <em> going to think you're horrible if I find out all you've done is run off to Vegas again, just because I saw something you clearly hadn't planned on showing me.</em>
</p><p>She watched awhile longer as the sky and its reflection in the ocean slipped into shades of rose and then lilac; then she turned and walked back to the house, where she noticed Penelope was already watching her through the open back door.</p><p>“Hey Pumpkin,” she smiled. “Glass of red?”</p><p>“Sure Mom, thanks.”</p><p>Chloe settled on the couch, and Penelope handed her a balloon of Coppola Archimedes.</p><p>“Tastes expensive, Mom. You know I'm happy with wine from a box.”</p><p>“You and your Dad,” she sighed. “When we were first married, he used to bring home $3 bottles of Mateus because he thought the commercials were romantic.”</p><p>“Well, that and probably the fact that you were too young to order wine in a bar.”</p><p>“That, too,” Penelope laughed “… <em>and</em> that's pretty much all we could afford then. But that changed for the better a few years after you came along.”</p><p>That was a double edged sword that Chloe didn't like to pull out of its scabbard too often and examine. She really <em>had</em> led a very comfortable life thanks to Penelope's success, and her father got to do exactly what he had always wanted to without having to worry if the pension would remain appropriately funded by the state so it actually existed when he retired. The trade off was, she either wasn't home for long stretches <em>or</em> when Penelope was between projects, she was home constantly and spoon feeding Chloe endless tips and lessons about the business.</p><p>“Look, I know you called and said you had something serious you wanted to talk about, but I have a bit of news, too. Do you mind if I go first before we get into the heavy?”</p><p>“Sure, what's up Mom?”</p><p><a id="titleHeader" name="titleHeader"></a>“I signed a new contract with Hallmark – a six-movie deal with a chance for renewals, too. I'm going to be a private detective of a <em>certain age</em>,” she announced with a raised eyebrow and her patented air of drama. “All I have to do is be myself, leopard print clothes and all. They wanted someone emotive and offbeat to play against my much younger, naive male amanuensis.”</p><p>“Amanuensis – <em>seriously?</em> – does anyone actually still know what that means?”</p><p>“Probably not. It's a running bit in the first film just for that reason.”</p><p>“Well … congratulations. It actually sounds like fun.”</p><p>“I hope so, but it will mean a lot more time up in Vancouver, which brings me to the following: I took a meeting with Randi, my accountant, and he thought I should seriously start considering some more advanced estate planning, so I talked to a lawyer, and with this new deal and the time away, I decided I'm going to pass the beach house on to you officially in the next couple of months, but you can plan on moving back sooner if it suits you, because you know I'll need to rent a place in Canada soon and head up there for pre-production meetings. I've purchased a <em>spectacular</em> fixer upper in Malibu for my return – it's steps from Pepperdine: imagine if Trixie were to get in she could come over for lunch, anytime – but it will take awhile before that's ready, so … here,” she finished and took a deep breath, handing Chloe a newly minted copy of the front door key on her dad's old LAPD keychain.</p><p>While Chloe was genuinely happy for her mother about the films, she knew she probably sounded a little underwhelming in her congratulations. Not because she didn't mean it, but because she was still so fraught after Charlotte, Pierce, Lucifer, the investigation, and then Olivia's news came out of nowhere and smacked her in the head like a brick. She'd been gearing herself up for the talk with her mom, stressed about how it was going to go. And now <em>this</em> gift, too. She wasn't prepared for the rollercoaster of emotions and started tearing up.</p><p>“Mom, I … <em>thank you</em>. This is really unexpected. Trixie will <em>love</em> it. She still talks about how much she misses having the beach so close, and well … you know why this house will always be special to me.”</p><p>“You're welcome, Pumpkin. … Now, what was it <em>you</em> wanted to talk about.”</p><p>“I know this is going to sound weird, but … do you remember the improv game we used to play to help me prepare for The Talk with your Daughter auditions.”</p><p>“Well of course, dear.”</p><p>“I need a session.”</p><p>“Are you … thinking of getting back in the business?”</p><p>“No. Definitely not. It's just … pretending it was real, even though a lot of it really <em>was</em> real anyway, somehow made it easier to talk about things when I was younger. I just … I need the layer of construct.”</p><p>“Okay. What's my role?”</p><p>“Utterly simple: you're my Mom and you can rely on any shared history we've had, but you can improvise with additional material, too, if you think it will help the conversation.”</p><p>“Ages?”</p><p>“As we are. But here's the thing. I'm going to throw something utterly preposterous out there, and I need you to act as though what I'm saying is completely believable to you. I mean, you can't walk over to the phone and call the psych ward. I <em>need</em> you to act as though what I'm saying makes sense to you, and hit back with some logic or analysis or <em>something</em> to help my character cope with what she's having a <em>really</em> hard time accepting.”</p><p>“Ooookay. Sounds like a good challenge,” said Penelope, closing her eyes and focusing. “Let's do this.”</p><p>Chloe set her glass down on the cocktail table, stood up and moved away from the couch. She glanced aside toward some of her mother's movie photos and considered the best way to proceed. She walked over to the pier table below the movie posters and picked up a letter opener, thinking she might do something illustrative to emphasize her story, but then decided that was just too Maze for the moment and set it back down.</p><p>“Lucifer once asked me if I were an atheist, and I said no, not exactly. I said I believed in right and wrong … a moral force of sorts. You know I just hate to sound so touchy-feely Cal, but let's just say a … <em>celestial consciousness</em> of sorts, maybe a Mother Nature as it were or … some great energy we join up with when we die. But scriptures, Hell, the Devil, Demons, all those stories about floods and towers and Adam and Eve, the mumbo jumbo rituals and sacrifices … I mean <em>that</em> always seemed like nonsense. Why on earth if there were some Almighty being would he – <em>or she</em> – give a crap about us?”</p><p>“Is that your question, Pumpkin?”</p><p>“No … <em>that's</em> just rhetorical. I'm still working up to it.”</p><p>“Okay. Go on. You're doing well. I'm feeling it.”</p><p>Chloe took another deep breath. She was still avoiding eye contact, because she was sure Penelope was going to lose all respect for her as soon as she got to her point. And if there was one thing that was much worse than having grown up with an immature mother for a parent, it was seeing the disappointment on said immature mother's face with respect to your third rate acting skills.</p><p>“I saw something a few weeks ago. … You might say it shook me to the core.”</p><p>“You're talking about what went down with that dirty Lieutenant you had been engaged to.”</p><p>“Yeah. Pierce. What you don't know is that he tried to kill me that day.”</p><p>“Oh, Chloe,” Penelope sighed, but Chloe held up her hand.</p><p>“I'm okay. … I'm <em>completely</em> fine … I'm completely fine because <em>Lucifer</em> saved me. … But I also saw him that day for what he really is, for what he's been telling me all along … that there's this monstrous side to him that he's afraid would scare me.”</p><p>“Pumpkin?” asked Penelope, her brow furrowed.</p><p>“Lucifer killed Pierce to stop him from hurting anyone ever again, and when he did that, I saw him. I <em>saw</em> the Devil. His name is Lucifer Morningstar, an over-the-top, showboaty, half-in-the-bag nightclub owner … but in that moment, he was <em>the </em>Lucifer, the King of Hell meting out punishment.”</p><p>“Darling, you've shot criminals, too. You <em>know </em>sometimes it's your only choice.”</p><p>“No Mom. I'm not calling him the Devil because he killed Pierce for whatever reason, even <em>if</em> it brought him some sense of satisfaction, even if he <em>enjoyed</em> it, I wouldn't say that. … I'm saying he is the <em>literal </em>son of God who was kicked out of Heaven and has ruled Hell for eons, and I know this because I <em>saw</em> him … Max Factor-award-winning, CGI makeup so good you've never seen anything like it in your life, because the red eyes, the scarred and burned flesh, the entire freaking monstrous visage wasn't just some grand illusion. It was <em>real</em>.</p><p>“And that … and <em>that</em> is not the worst part. The worst part is that if <em>that's</em> true – and I now know it is – then all the rest is true as well. God, Heaven, Hell, Angels, Demons, every aspect of it. Every detail. My partner, the person I depend on, the person who has saved me numerous times from injury and death … the person I <em>love ...” </em>and at this point she stopped pacing and looked Penelope in the eye. “Every story throughout history tells us he's the Embodiment of Evil. How do I rationalize this? How do I continue? Can I risk my daughter's soul, let her come into contact with him? Do I warn all my friends as well? Don't I have a duty to the -- the entire planet – to protect everyone?”</p><p>Penelope <em>did</em> consider calling the psych ward, but only for a moment. Fact of the matter was, this was LA, and she'd seen far worse personal crises in the past. But her daughter <em>did</em> need her to be an actress, and even more than that she needed her mother to trust her. Penelope had a dual role to play, and play it she would.</p><p>“That's … quite a lot to process, Chlo, but let's take this one step at a time,” she exhaled. “Okay … see, <em>this </em>is exactly why when you gave up acting just after Daddy died, I <em>really</em> wanted you to go to college and not the Police Academy. Your high school tutors really let you sail through much too easily.”</p><p>“Moooom. I really don't think this is the right time to rehash that old argument. Besides, you didn't go either.”</p><p>“That's true, but during every minute of downtime in my trailer, I studied whatever I could get my hands on. Whenever I prepared for a role, I read whatever history and background I could dig up on the subject. Sure the movies were full of cheesy sci-fi settings and costumes, but they were morality tales, military stories, questing classics updated for technology, but the themes and the psychology of the characters were eternal.</p><p>“So, actually, yes it is. It's the perfect time to revisit this, because the problem with your training was that it taught you to think like a cop, and for the most part, to only consider facts of the here and now.”</p><p>“<em>And</em>?”</p><p>“If Lucifer really is The Devil, and you want to try to understand what that means, I think you're going to have to examine what the facts were at different times and in different places. Here's an easy example: many Christians today will tell you that Jesus was not only a human and the son of God, but that he is also, simultaneously God.”</p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>“But do you think his twelve buddies at the time he was on Earth thought so? Did early Christians in the first decades and centuries after his death believe that? No! In fact, it took a gaggle of churchmen to decide by a <em>vote </em>what was truth for their future followers,” she paused a moment to sip her wine and let all that sink into her daughter's thoughts.</p><p>“Do you remember that 9-month period between Queen of the Quarks and its sequel The Empire Expands?”</p><p>“I remember the endless Althea press events,” smiled Chloe wanly as she took in the overstuffed armchair facing her mother.</p><p>“<em>And</em> … since I wasn't working …”</p><p>“You were home a lot, especially over the summer, and you thought we should explore religion.”</p><p>Off the top of her head, Chloe remembered being struck by the natural beauty surrounding the Swedenborgian Wayfarers Church overlooking the coast, the sketchiness of the Church of the Most High Goddess, the exoticism of the architecture and decoration of both the Malibu Hindu and the Buddhist Hsi Lai Temples. She knew there were many others, though: fringe groups, almost cult like in their devotion to naturalism and balance, some neo-Greek pagans and Rosicrucians, and a few left-overs from the EST movement who just liked to get together once a week in a hot tub, philosophize and smoke pot. Penelope had <em>not</em> gone in for most of the classics, but she never entertained anything that was as downright dangerous as Scientology, either. When Chloe was young, she assumed Penelope just liked trying on churches the way Lauren Bacall said she liked trying on discounted designer dresses in the Back Room of Lohmann's.</p><p>“And why do you think we did that?”</p><p>“Well, I remember you had me read a lot of world myths, too. Were the field trips to reinforce the stories?”</p><p>“A little, I suppose. Mostly, I wanted to teach you that there was no single right answer, that there were many ways to consider the truths of the universe. I wanted you to internalize from an early age that there were always multiple sides to every story. Do you remember how after a while you started to see patterns in myths, how there were parts from one culture's that would show up in another's?”</p><p>“Sure. We still see it happening today in books and films.”</p><p>“Because once someone puts an idea out there, someone else will latch onto it, tailor it a bit to their needs, perhaps, but it begins a cascade and we as a society are swayed and influenced by it.</p><p>“And I'm willing to bet, if you do your research on The Devil, you'll likely find he hasn't always been – indeed <em>isn't</em> always – viewed as Evil Incarnate. Stories can be wonderful and inspiring, Pumpkin, but stories are also extremely influential and powerful means of communication. Storytelling is <em>dangerous</em> if you, as the listener, forget that they're filled with fiction.</p><p>“So while it's noble – and so very <em>you </em>– to be worried about your daughter's and your friends' and the entirety of humanity's souls, if you really love Lucifer Morningstar, and if he's done everything for you that you've told me, don't you owe him the dedication of a scholar? Think of it as the undergraduate thesis I would have wanted you to write.”</p><p>Chloe looked up at her Mom, a moue of irritation on her lips, but she admitted, “You're right.”</p><p>“So maybe you should start by interviewing the source?”</p><p>“Unfortunately, I can't. Lucifer's been missing since the day Pierce died.”</p><p>“Well … libraries, museums and churches it is, then.”</p><p>Chloe blew out another <em>long</em> breath. “Yeah … and I suppose I'll have plenty of time for that in another week or so when I'm in Europe.”</p><p>“Oh? You didn't mention.”</p><p>“It's a work thing – a conference on law enforcement, humanitarian jail sentences, rehabilitation and such. I was just invited today by the chief.”</p><p>“Well that's wonderful, dear.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Chloe responded with some ambivalence. “Maybe it will be.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>It was shaping up to be the plane flight from Hell. Fully booked and thanks to the LAPD's Basic Economy ticket, Chloe wasn't assigned her seat until check in, and naturally it was a middle. About the only positive she could find at the moment was that it wasn't the window seat next to her, meaning she would only have to climb over one rather than two people every time she wanted to use the restroom. She was, however, called early to board the plane and spent quite a long time waiting in her seat at the back of the craft with only a half dozen or so other passengers scattered throughout the section. Irritatingly enough, one of them was seated right next to her at the window. She considered moving a seat over, but it just wasn't in her nature to break that sort of regulation. You were supposed to wait until everyone had boarded before attempting to shift seats and upsetting the plastic wrapped pillows and blankets. On the one hand it seemed silly. Just the kind of thing she <em>should </em>lighten up about. On the other, she had an inkling that this would <em>not </em>be something Lucifer would cajole her about. In his own way, he was as much a stickler about certain social niceties as she, and besides, he was an epic neat freak. His comment about the soiled floors at Lux being the only hint the club was a den of iniquity the night of the Tim Dunlear benefit was clearly a jest. Chloe had witnessed the morning cleaning crew sanitizing and polishing every surface at Lux many times throughout their partnership when she'd picked him up directly at the club for convenience sake. From time to time on cases in the seedier parts of town, he remained surprisingly open minded about the menu offerings at some of the hole in the wall, lowbrow lunch dives she'd taken him to, yet he still demanded a neat counter and a freshly wiped tray with a pristine paper placemat, threatening to cuff the server if they weren't delivered post haste.</p><p>She closed her eyes and began to review the events of the last week as she awaited the inevitable deluge of humanity that would no doubt shove its way into both aisles in a few moments when various connecting flights from who knows where touched down and the passengers all raced to TBIT from their other terminals. She had had a week to prepare for the trip. Dan had obviously primed Trixie to respond as she had, enthusiastically and generously, asking only that Chloe bring her back something from each place she visited. Maze assured her, she would make herself available for backup babysitting if any emergencies came up, and would take Trixie out for periodic adventures (“Fine, Decker, not on bounties.”) to give Dan some time off as well. Her metaphorical feathers – at least Chloe didn't believe she had any – weren't the least bit ruffled when Chloe explained that when she returned, she'd be moving back to the beach house, which her Mother was giving her. Chloe invited her to move in as well – there were three bedrooms, after all – and Maze said she'd consider it, though she was also thinking she just might spend some time at the penthouse and keep her eye on Lux's manager at the same time, because who could trust Amenadiel to operate a den of sin, unless what you were hoping for was for him to run it into the ground. Her Mom had offered the same babysitting services until she had to move up to Vancouver, but Chloe knew Penelope's ideas of “adventures” could actually be more dangerous than Maze's.</p><p>All of those conversations had progressed so smoothly, in fact, she was left with more time than she had even dared to hope for to visit a few churches and temples in LA to gather notes, thoughts and reading material on the Devil.</p><p>Her visit with Linda, on the other hand, was proving the only fly in the soup of the week. Not that anything acrimonious had occurred. Far from, but it was vexing.</p><p>“<em>Linda, I need to know … are you covering for Lucifer? Is he really in some fancy-schmancy recovery clinic?”</em></p><p>“<em>Lucifer definitely was traumatized by the events of that day. Everything he put into his statement letter, I have recorded on tape. After that, he said he needed to check into a space where he could escape the pain. I can't attest to the décor or service, but you know Lucifer.”</em></p><p>Before she'd seen that layer of him he'd insisted was there from the getgo of their acquaintance, before she'd finally seen with her own two eyes that the layer wasn't merely metaphorical, but an actual, physical manifestation, she would have no doubt quipped, “<em>Right, so Vegas brothel? … Something more sybaritic this time … perhaps a private hut in the Maldives with a full-time masseuse or masseur, depending on his mood … or both?” </em>but now she was merely stuck on that last phrase … <em>“but you know Lucifer.”</em></p><p>Did she?</p><p>“<em>Chloe, I need you to tell me exactly what you saw and what you did.”</em></p><p>“<em>It was all a set up … Pierce was a well-established crime boss from a family of crime bosses, and he played us.”</em></p><p>“<em>Stop right there, Chloe, and let me just ask you this. … Would you tell me this story any differently if I told you I know that Pierce was Cain. As in Cain from the Bible – humanity's first murderer? And I know this, because Lucifer told me. And he gave me more than sufficient proof that was not the insane ramblings of a deluded patient.”</em></p><p>“<em>You know? You've … seen his face?”</em></p><p>“<em>It was rather alarming.”</em></p><p>“<em>How long ago?”</em></p><p>“<em>A while. At least a year and a half.”</em></p><p>“<em>And you're ... OK with it all?”</em></p><p>“<em>Far from it … but along with all the danger, all the bad, has come a lot of good: Maze, my best friend; Lucifer, also a wonderful friend and one of the most interesting patients a doctor could ever ask for; his brother Amenadiel, a beautiful lover … and our baby.”</em></p><p>
  <em>At that, Chloe's jaw fell open slightly.</em>
</p><p>“<em>I know,” Linda smiled at her friend's befuddled response. “But we can talk all about my experiences later. Right now, let's focus on you. So the unsanitized version, if you please.”</em></p><p>“<em>Right … He led us to this prewar building in downtown LA, with a large, open rotunda, a 270-degree gallery above us, plenty of spots for his shooters to rain down a hailstorm of bullets.</em></p><p>“<em>At first, Pierce – Cain – said he would spare me. That he only wanted to kill Lucifer because he knew that he'd never let him get away with reinventing himself elsewhere. Apparently, Cain had left a paper trail going back centuries to Europe and then some, documenting inheritances, but it was all a smokescreen to protect himself and hide the fact that he was living out God's punishment of immortality.</em></p><p>“<em>But I wasn't going to let him do that. I moved in front of Lucifer. I shot Pierce. Unfortunately, not in the heart. He gave the order, I was hit in the chest. I remember falling backward, my eyes were closed, I was losing consciousness. There was a brightness, though, that I could see even though my eyes were closed. And bullet fire. And horrific screaming. Next thing I knew I was waking up in Lucifer's arms on the rooftop of the building next door. I said something like, 'We can't let Pierce get away.' And then he was gone.</em></p><p>“<em>I crossed over from one roof to the next – they were close enough that it was safe – and I found the rooftop door, descended, but when I reached the rotunda hall, it was already over. Pierce's minions all dead or knocked unconscious. Shards of plaster and glass from the dome were everywhere and feathers – bloody feathers. Pierce was on the floor with a blade sticking out of his chest. … And Lucifer, his back to me, was squatting down beside him. He rose, then and turned to me. And I …” she paused.</em></p><p>“<em>And what Chloe? What did you say? What did you do?”</em></p><p>“<em>I stared. I don't know how long. His face, it was ...”</em></p><p>“<em>Go on. I know how it looks.”</em></p><p>“<em>I – I inched backwards, away from him, until my heel hit the first step of the staircase. It caused me to lose my balance, and I sat down on the steps. I was saying, 'It's all true,' over and over.</em></p><p>“<em>And then he must have realized something. He shouted 'No,' repeatedly, and then there was an explosion from his back – his wings – and he was gone.”</em></p><p>“<em>Was there anything else you said?”</em></p><p>“<em>Not … not that I can remember.”</em></p><p>“<em>Were you possibly thinking something that you may have accidentally voiced aloud and not even realized?”</em></p><p>“<em>I … was … I guess you might say 'praying' – informally, maybe?”</em></p><p>“<em>And what did you say?”</em></p><p>“<em>I said … I said, 'Whoever made you, help us to survive this.' Linda, did I actually say that out loud? Is </em><b>that</b><em> why he had to get away?”</em></p><p>“<em>I don't know for sure, but he said it was obvious you were terrified, and in order to help you, he had to leave.”</em></p><p>
  <b>Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome aboard Iberia Airlines Flight 6170 from Los Angles to Madrid. Due to inclement weather in Asia and the Pacific, several of our passengers have been delayed and will not be able to make the connection. We are currently closing the main door, and will be pushing off from the gate momentarily. Please take your seats, fasten your seatbelts and direct your attention to the safety video which will automatically play on all screens.</b>
</p><p>She wanted to joke to her neighbor that apparently someone was looking out for them with the fortunate change in weather, but then she remembered Lucifer's response the last time she said such a thing.</p><p>“<em>I assure you Detective, my Father's not the least bit meteorologically inclined. The whole Noah thing was a one-off.”</em></p><p>
  <em>A one-off? So humanity – and all the rest of the animals, apparently – were truly so horrible they had to be wiped off the planet way back then, but what – since then everything's been A-okay? Wars with modern weapons, genocide and mass destruction didn't merit another deluge from on high? Or did he just mean, God's toilet was clogged for forty nights, and it was all just an unfortunate overflowing shitstorm for ancient Earth?</em>
</p><p>Instead, Chloe turned to her neighbor with a shrug, “Well … it's been nice. No offense, but I think I'll take a center row for myself. Enjoy the space.”</p><p>“Yes, of course. Thank you. Try to get some sleep.”</p><p>So, if it weren't for the fact that she still couldn't shake the feeling that Lucifer's disappearance was all on her, this trip would be shaping up to be delightful. No worries about Trixie. No worries about the future of her career. Excellent vacation opportunity, and even arriving overseas well rested in advance of the conference. Somehow the cosmic balance of the universe was out of whack. She decided to distract herself until dinnertime with some of the research reading she'd downloaded onto her tablet, and opened to the first page of Anatole France's classic, <em>Revolt of the Angels</em>.</p><p>-0-</p><p>
  <em>Or did he just mean, God's toilet was clogged for forty nights, and it was all just an unfortunate overflowing shitstorm for ancient Earth?</em>
</p><p>Chloe Decker really did have a delightful sense of humor. It wasn't obvious when they'd first met, but given the circumstances of her arrival and such – not so surprising. She hadn't pegged her for the religious type either though, so when Goddess heard her shout out some six or seven weeks ago, <em>that</em> was a bit of a stunner.</p><p>
  <em>Whoever made you, help us to survive this.</em>
</p><p>She hadn't expected general prayers would traverse the membranes between universes, and she hadn't created anything sentient in her new one yet, so she suspected this message was highly specific and powerfully charged. She also hadn't personally met that many humans on Earth in her short time in Charlotte Richard's skin, so it was fairly easy to identify the voice. Question was … what exactly was Chloe asking for?</p><p>The Goddess of All Creation had never had any interest in omniscience. What delight was there to discover if you already knew everything? From the beginning of ever, she'd expanded forth from her highly compact state as the initial singularity and the first universe was born. Goddess presided over everything, 14 billion years of expansion and another 14 billion of contraction, all back down into a singularity of infinite density. The first three or four times it was a series of terribly exciting cycles, everything from the creation of the first electrons and neutrinos to the first bacteria and elephants. By the 25<sup>th</sup> Big Crunch, she was getting phenomenally bored, and after the 27<sup>th</sup>, she decided she had to do something different or she was going to lose her glow.</p><p>Goddess had watched millions of species rise and fall over billions and billions of years, each seeking out niches for themselves, surviving against one biological challenge and environmental catastrophe after the next, inventing new and clever systems of immunity and reproduction to make themselves more and more resilient. She'd been particularly fascinated when entire branches of evolution produced life with emotions and deep bonds with their mates and offspring, and this time, she decided she wanted a piece of that experience for her own. Everything in the universe was of Goddess and a bit of Goddess still resided in everything, but none of it felt quite as personal as she thought perhaps it could. And so, following the model of so many of her creatures, while still in her infinitely dense and yet dimensionless form, she divided in two. Not like simple cell division in two, but selectively, of course. She pushed and pulled qualities and characteristics, possibilities and energies, particles and dark matter from herself, until she'd formed another who she thought would be her perfect complement, but once separate, they each grew much larger than the sum of their parts, and the energy of the singularity couldn't hold stable. Each felt the desperate pull to return to comfort and safety and <em>wholeness</em>, to become one again, so they threw themselves into a loving embrace, but it was too late. They were two individuals now, and the scar of their first cleaving would be an eternal longing to reunite. An echo of that desire to be complete again would touch the soul of every form of life that would develop in the newly born 28<sup>th</sup> universe. It was already expanding around them exponentially, chaotically different from all its predecessors.</p><p>Omniscience didn't just spoil surprises, it also gave you the mother goddess of all hangovers as you were easing into the skill. After that first week of attempts, she decided she was going to have to narrow her focus or Chloe would likely be dead before Goddess sorted through all the random irrelevant information of existence and figured out just what it was the Detective wanted.</p><p>
  <em>Whoever made you, help us to survive this.</em>
</p><p>“Well I suppose,” she spoke aloud to her universe, “the 'us' probably refers to Chloe and Lucifer.”</p><p>Goddess closed her noncorporeal eyes – because that's one of the many habits she'd picked up watching her own angels develop as well as humans during her brief but intense visit into their experiences – and focused only on information pertaining to the child that had surprised her the most. She floated for hours, communing with that light of the past, all the way up to each second as it became present, for that's what all information was at its essence – a form of light. That's why you could see it and know it, but omniscience could not reveal the future unless you were willing to physically travel so far from the present, even a goddess might find herself getting lost as she tried navigating back home. Reaching for this information caused her to physically drift toward the absolute limit of her own universe where it touched her former one. She reached out a noncorporeal hand and caressed the membrane where there had once been a tear in space-time and her son had urged her to let there be light.</p><p>“So I was <em>wrong</em>?!”</p><p>If there was one lesson she'd learned from Lucifer, it was that manipulating your children for your own gain was heinous. Her ultimate intentions were undeniably selfish, but she had never lied – only used the truth to her advantage and for what she <em>thought</em> was his own good. But apparently even that wasn't so. One of her primary assumptions about Chloe had been flawed. She needed to correct this clusterfuck for the eternal happiness and welfare of her child. She'd once fiercely told Mazikeen she'd face a thousand Hells if it meant saving Lucifer. Unfortunately, this mess was going to take far more subtle management than bursting through universes and planes after a shock to the heart. Her ex was playing with reality as though it were a kaleidoscope, the same colorful pieces spinning around and around but falling into different combinations over and over, as though he were awaiting some ultimate scenario to finally coalesce before his eyes. As far as she could tell from her little slice of omniscience regarding all things tied to Lucifer, God had violated nearly every law of physics in his pursuit of … <em>what </em>outcome she didn't quite know.</p><p>Well back to her request: <em>Whoever made you, help us to survive this.</em></p><p>She'd start small. She didn't think Lucifer's typical methods of solving such problems would work either, otherwise, she might just pop an American Express Corporate Card into existence in Chloe's pocket. She'd been watching her carefully since the day of her prayer, trying to sooth her and pave her way on her little journey of discovery. A child bribed by chocolate cake not to pout here, an airplane or two diverted by tsunamis there. Chloe deserved to find the truth, and for goodness's sake, to be able to manage it with a modicum of comfort. Goddess would do her best to provide.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. All Flights Grounded</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>True, he never was the most graceful of men, but he'd spent such a short time getting used to Bree Garland's gangly body, and with the narrow shoes females wore in Los Angeles, was it really any wonder that on the third day after his resurrection, he stumbled into a racing ambulance and descended back into Hell?</p><p>He understood that he was dead again, and all those past visions were merely a Hell loop he'd more or less created on his own to torture himself. Mother had asked him to bring her fresh ewe's milk to make cheese, but instead he'd stopped at Cain's hut and flaunted his own accepted sacrifice and belittled Cain's rejected offering. After the blow struck his forehead and he inhaled his final lungful of air, the last words he spoke were, “Mother will be so disappointed.” And so his Hell loop would reprise that thought over and over; he would skive off the work that Mother had requested that day in favor of wine, women or feasting, and Cain would hunt him down to deliver his punishment. This time, however, he knew a thing or two of what to expect thanks to his former torturer Mazikeen, his brother Cain, and the Devil, himself. He knew his punishment never fit the crime, but without the perspective gained from family and friends supporting him, he couldn't let go of his guilt, but he'd gained that freedom with his return to Earth. Even garnered an actual apology from his murderer. So why was he here?</p><p>He considered a bit more and then the thought struck him; if he imagined his suffering, perhaps he could imagine something better. Abel closed his eyes and pictured a door. A moment later with his eyes open wide, he reached for the unlocked handle and turned the knob.</p><p>-0-</p><p>She was alive – even recovered enough from her collision with the bullet that she could descend the stairs on her own – and safe now. Cain would never pose a threat again. Lucifer's heart lightened as he considered the possibilities. They could be together, they would start with a perfect dinner, a proper evening of romance for once, and … <em>what was she saying?</em></p><p>And what's more, what was that emotion in her eyes? Far more than incredulity, not just shock, and certainly <em>not</em> love.</p><p>Fear.</p><p>
  <em>Why?</em>
</p><p>The trembling of his own hand caught his attention, and when he looked down, he understood. His skin betrayed him, betrayed her. There was only one thing he could do to make it better. To soothe his horror at what he had done. To soothe hers about what he was.</p><p>When he arrived in Hell, his demons knew their king had finally returned. Not because they sensed the scorch of his self-loathing or heard the bitter curses he spewed toward the heavens, but because he was their Lightbringer. The glow of his wings delivered the light of creation to even the darkest corners of Hell, places where his Father never dwelt. For miles, Lucifer traversed the twisted paths that snaked around the jagged, hexagonal columnar formations of schist rising up from the ground toward the smoke-colored sky. These massive crystals grew more and more densely as he approached the tallest spire at their center, on which perched his throne. And although he looked up, he did not rise to his seat, but instead raised his hand to the latch of the thick iron door that was set into the black stone and entered the cell.</p><p>The echoes of other residents could often be heard reverberating throughout the tangle of petrified forest, crying out. Crying out from their cells. Cells, hollowed into the metamorphic trunks. Trunks, whose surfaces were shot through with rivulets and streams of obsidian. And just as ash rained down from the sky perpetually, flake by flake, so the population accrued each minute of each hour of each day, and even more of these stony structures sprung forth in anticipation, expanding their girth by sucking more and more minerals directly from the bowels of Hell, until they were thick enough to imprison a freshly damned soul.</p><p>Lucifer's cell, not surprisingly, looked identical to the interior of his penthouse atop the Sunset Tower, just as it had when he'd stepped into it after retrieving the formula for the poison antidote from Professor Carlisle. There was no Uriel look-alike sitting at the piano and faffing his way through <em>Killing Me Softly</em>, though. The King of Hell had dealt with that already, when Dr. Linda helped him realize after his trip to Hell that what he originally thought was guilt was if fact, something far more grave. Guilt was actually a pesky bugger. It made you want to grab everyone that was looking at you with their judgy little eyes and shake them until they stopped making you feel bad for something that you knew was wrong, but you'd likely do again and again because you wanted to and you still want to, because you enjoyed it or you were simply uncaring of others' needs and feelings.</p><p>Remorse, on the other hand, took a pick axe to your innards. Lucifer now knew he would rather stab himself into oblivion with Azrael's blade than have to endure the soul-rending pain of killing his brother a second time. And yet … he <em>would</em> choose to kill Uriel again if it meant keeping his brother from harming the Detective, because the Devil loved her far more than he loved himself. That kind of self-sacrificing act, did not deserve additional punishment.</p><p>But at the moment he was feeling something else. Regret, perhaps. He <em>should</em> have found a different way to show the Detective who he was. He could at least have given her an idea of his angelic origins as he had Charlotte, even if that wasn't entirely who he was today. But he was a stubborn coward, afraid of her response, and as a result, he had terrified her.</p><p>He would have to have a long and proper think, and decide if the mere act of separating himself from her for eternity was punishment enough. Lucifer lay down on his Italian leather couch, stared up at the reflective ceiling and the upside down Tree of Knowledge chandelier, pondering recent events until his eyelids grew heavy, and he slept.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Squee was in the process of shoveling ash from one of the many corridors, when Abel, who had been wandering for several minutes – or was it hours? – stumbled upon him.</p><p>“Abel?” asked Squee. “What are you doing out of your room?”</p><p>“I … opened the door and walked out?”</p><p>“That can't be. If you had broken free of your guilt, you'd be in Heaven.”</p><p>“But I don't feel any guilt.”</p><p>“That's what everyone says when they first arrive. Show them to their rooms, and it's a different story, though.”</p><p>Squee grabbed Abel's arm and started tugging him back down a corridor.</p><p>“But I'm already free.”</p><p>“We'll see about that.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>“Yesssssssssss,” Eve giggled, sliding along at ridiculous speeds, curve after curve, until finally she was unceremoniously dumped onto her perfectly-formed-by-the-hand-of-God backside, right into a pile of ash.</p><p>
  <em>Charlotte Richards, Mery and Father Frank had gathered quite a following as they began to ask questions about who might also wish to travel to Hell, whether it be to reform a lost community, visit a loved one who had been damned or merely to reconnect with Lucifer, for he was a person they had met once and quite liked when he'd done them a critical favor, but then they'd managed to die before he collected his due. Research tasks were assigned. Souls who were entitled to watch moments in the life of any of Lucifer's humans were asked to record scenes from all of the persons of interest so they could all help properly evaluate the situation.</em>
</p><p><em>Eve, of course, had been watching Cain since the first day that </em>Lives of Your Loved Ones<em> premiered in Heaven. Once she realized the woman who was now asking for volunteers to help out with their curious cause had been killed by her son, Eve stepped up. It only seemed fair that she try to do poor Charlotte a good turn. Besides, after reading about Lucifer with that irritating Detective who had jilted her first born AND had the nerve to tell Lucifer he wasn't the Devil, as well as watching her sweet and gentle Abel knocked back to Hell a </em>second time<em> – well, if there was anything to this idea they had of visiting prisoners, and helping them break free of the bonds of their guilt, she was in. (And perhaps, if there were time before she had to leave, she might stop in and say hello to her ex. She was sure he'd be there, after reading the accounts of how shattered he had been by the Detective's reaction to his other face.) While still alive, Eve had spent years cringing with guilt over her choice to indulge in the forbidden fruit. Not the cheating on Adam part – which he totally deserved given how vocally he pined for Lilith – but the tough life it resulted in for her descendants part really sucked. However, eventually, round about the age of 300 years or so, she'd gotten over it all, realizing that knowledge (both carnal and otherwise) granted a power much more valuable than the bliss of ignorance. As far as she was concerned, she owed Lucifer a favor for tempting her in the first place.</em></p><p>
  <em>Adam's second wife lost track of the conversational thread for a few minutes as she was paging through the copious pages of translations that so many of the volunteers had provided.</em>
</p><p>“<em>... Even with everyone's hard work and research, I'm still not sure we'll be able to pull this off without a bit of angelic assistance. I mean, it's not like we're playing a cosmic-size game of Chutes and Ladders,” Charlotte said, “And I doubt the original do-gooder who brought you and yours up here, Mery, will agree to providing the transport for a return trip down.”</em></p><p>“<em>Er … excuse me, but what's Chutes and Ladders?”</em></p><p>And that's how she came to be sliding down the longest spiral slide she could imagine. Eve never was one for dithering. All she needed was a solid idea and the power of her imagination. After that, she leaped before she looked.</p><p>-0-</p><p>“Not <em>you</em> again?”</p><p>It was the third time today – or had it been three days? – that a demon had caught Abel in the ashy corridors. The fugitive sighed with resignation, “Dromos, please. How many times have I been returned to my cell now? Surely you can see I'm free of my guilt. The tortures aren't working.”</p><p>“Yes,” admitted the demon, albeit begrudgingly. “But if you don't belong here, why don't you just pop off to Heaven like a good soul?”</p><p>“I don't know … how's does that usually work?”</p><p>“It never <em>has</em>. No soul has ever walked out of his cell on his own.”</p><p>“But the doors aren't even locked.”</p><p>“That's correct. Really says something about you humans and your rottenness, doesn't it?”</p><p>“Well … maybe there's a next step. Maybe I need to do some penance? Make a burnt offering to, you know … ,” shrugged Abel with one shoulder while pointing his eyes upwards. He'd quickly learned there were certain players up above whose names should never be uttered casually among the denizens of Hell.</p><p>Dromos snorted with derision. “First off, what would you have to offer? And secondly, why would anyone up there listen? … But as for penance … you might be onto something, but I haven't any work to give you. <em>Demons</em> are the stewards of Hell, created to torture the damned. We don't need any human assistance.”</p><p>“Not even someone to tidy up the corridors? Maybe polish the windows? Cook?”</p><p>“Just stay out of our way, and I'll make sure no one else drags you back to your room.”</p><p>“Deal,” replied Abel, holding out his hand to shake on it.</p><p>Dromos glanced down at Abel's hand without offering his own. “Our Lord makes deals. <em>Demons</em> have covenants and blood oaths. But if I tell you no one will drag you back to your room, you can believe me.”</p><p>“Er … alright, I'll be off, then,” he agreed and loped down an adjacent path, leading away from the dense center of the cells.</p><p>He walked along for what he thought may have been hours, but it was hard to tell. The sky was perpetually roiling with dark clouds, but it seemed to be neither day nor night, and there was very limited light from the skies to indicate the hour, or how much it had changed from when he began, but he <em>did</em> note that, overall, Hell now seemed visually brighter than when he was cast back into his cell the second time. Abel saw that there were collections of – Oh, what was it Father had named them so many thousands of years ago? – <em>lichens</em>, yes, lichens growing on the surfaces of the rocks. They had little use for them as Cain grew many more interesting foods and he, himself, had built a sizable flock for milk and meat, but Mother had once told him, when Cain was little, before Abel was born, there had been difficult times, and the lichens provided some sustenance. As the columnar stones grew more and more sparse, he noticed a variety of fungi peeking out at different points along their “bark,” as well.</p><p>Abel could smell water ahead, brackish, but not foul. A few more minutes and he reached a narrow stream littered with dead branches and twigs; its brownish water rushing along steadily.</p><p>“Not exactly the river of lava and fire, one might have expected from Hell,” he said aloud.</p><p>The gray sandy banks were crowded with great dollops of nostoc. He walked among them warily – occasionally even nudging one of the gelatinous blobs with his boot – not quite certain if they were plants, animals or some other life form unique to the plane.</p><p>“Well, you're not a goat, but I suppose there's enough of you to make a worthy flock. What do you taste like, though?”</p><p>It was then he heard a crash and a shriek on the other side of the stream. He chanced a leap across and almost made it, but one boot still wound up soggy. A shapely woman in a white dress had taken a tumble on the ground and was searching for something. Her long hair waved wildly about her head as though she had recently passed through a windstorm. Once a herdsman, always a herdsman, Abel eyed her bum appraisingly as she was crawling about on her hands and knees until she retrieved the object and tucked it back into her pocket.</p><p>“You have the finest hindquarters and a <em>most</em> silky mane fair maiden. It may be too late to multiply, but why should we not try. After all, the fun is in the fruitful part, anyway.”</p><p>It may have been millennia, but she'd know that voice and cheesy pick up line anywhere. Her second child had always been an unabashed flirt.</p><p>“Abel?” she asked, turning around.</p><p>“Mother?!”</p><p>Their embrace was fierce and tearful, and then they sat down on the bank of the stream and talked for days. From time to time, his mother would walk around and forage for a bit of this or that along the water when her stomach growled, but although Abel had always eaten in his cell – because that's what humans were supposed to do when hungry – it finally dawned on him that apparently it wasn't a requirement anymore.</p><p>“But Mother … do the Angels in Heaven need to eat?”</p><p>“Lucifer once quipped they'd been force fed the Word of God for eons, but when he tasted his first apple in Eden, he realized he'd been starved.”</p><p>“<em>Mother</em>,” he whinged, “you'll traumatize me.”</p><p>“I'm not actually speaking in sexual metaphor. I meant <em>actual</em> apples, and medlars, and figs, and … oh, he adored bitter almonds and ripe persimmons. He didn't technically <em>need </em>to eat, but he loved to.”</p><p>“And the Demons … do you think they don't require food, either.”</p><p>“I would think they do. Their parents are humans – just, Lilith was changed for her disobedience.”</p><p>“Changed?”</p><p>“That's right Son of Eve,” said a voice from behind him. He could see his mother's eyes grow round before he turned. “Fancy seeing you here, Second Wife.”</p><p>“Lilith.”</p><p>“Does he know the story?” asked the woman.</p><p>She was tall and broad-shouldered, with smooth golden skin, proud and regal in her bearing, but her dark brown wavy hair, much like Eve's, appeared brittle and unkempt in its messy bun. Now that Abel looked a little closer, he thought her leaner than she should be. Such a strong bone structure would benefit from a bit more plumping, and she was using the loose dress and bunched waist scarf she wore to hide that fact. But she had an arresting pair of eyes – one blue, one brown.</p><p>“He knows of you, … but nothing more.”</p><p>“Well, <em>that's</em> about to change.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Adam was the first person to come upon them; Abel, lying bloody on the ground, the breathe of life stopped by a rock and now all that remained was a clay that would rapidly degrade to dust unless the vultures came sooner and devoured him, and Cain, still standing, a blank expression on his face. His father didn't have to ask who did this or how it happened. Adam's firstborn still had his brother's blood smeared on his clothes. There were no footprints leading to the site, no signs of struggle or ambush from wandering herdsman from afar. While they lived in the Garden, God had told Adam and Eve they were special. That millions of years of evolution guided by God's hand had resulted in Adam, and from Adam, God fashioned Eve. A helpmeet, bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, soul of his soul. For a short time, it seemed they were of one mind, but then Lucifer came and asked her what it was she truly desired, and the rest, as they say was Bible History.</p><p>But of course one couple could only do so much in terms of genetics. Even if they hadn't left the Garden, Adam and Eve's children would eventually need mates from the greater population outside the walls: spouses who were relatives of today's <em>Homo sapiens sapiens</em> but no longer exist as separate species. Their footprints can still be seen mixed throughout modern human DNA today. Adam knew the <em>murderer – </em>yes<em>, </em>he would name him murderer – wasn't one of these others, though. He could see the evidence before him as well as the shame in Cain's eyes.</p><p>“Go,” he told his son, “go before God finds you. Run and don't ever return.”</p><p>It was a harsh lesson, but one he practiced over and over. Do what you must to survive, get over your guilt and move on. While it might seem to the average human that many people do this all the time, in the average human lifetime, most people haven't all that much opportunity. Multiply that lifetime by several thousands of years, and you have Cain – the world's leading expert at getting on with life, or now, the afterlife.</p><p>He watched Charlotte and Amenadiel sitting on the bench at the overlook near the Griffith Observatory from his vantage point in the bushes. He knew what was about to happen. The gun was in his right hand, the safety off, in his head he was screaming not to pull the trigger, not to … but his hand wasn't listening to his mind. He fired. Charlotte foolishly jumped up, knocking Amenadiel backwards<em>.</em></p><p>It went on for a few days. No variety. No other scenarios. Honestly, in a lifetime of murders and violent acts, it was really one of the more minor ones, and yet his Hell loop reflected just this scene. Eventually, he concluded that must be because he'd truly forgiven himself for the others. Lucifer understood that, which was why he'd gone out of his way to give him a guilt trip over Charlotte's death. But Cain would bring his razor sharp rationale to this quandary, too.</p><p>“I had no choice,” he told himself firmly and constantly for the next several days. He was no longer prepared to lead a normal human life. He'd become a very different sort of creature with his immortality. His goals, desires, purpose, investments, strategies, files and journals of experience, account books of favors owed and granted, all of it was only structured to playing the long game. At first it was taxing. Niggling thoughts of trying again with Chloe or finding someone else – <em>someone not already enthralled with Lucifer's prancing</em> – pestered him, told him he could have followed a different path. Could have become a real cop who actually tried to make the planet better, or a writer or a bartender or an artisan. He'd already had plenty of practice spinning stories, already lived several of his own. He knew how to brew beer, make wine. He'd even been good with pottery back in the day. He thought of his many families, many descendants. Yes, it was painful, but it was beautiful, too, worth it at the time … or so he thought … until he had to flee them … or they left him in death.</p><p>“God set up the gameboard when he sent Amenadiel to mark me. I had no choice but to play.”</p><p>It was all he knew. How to play the long game. How to get over it and get on with it and continue. The only way to survive was to keep playing. His existence was the game, and he had to kill Amenadiel to get back on the board. He had no choice. It wasn't his fault that Charlotte got in the way. <em>That</em> was an accident.</p><p>
  <em>I had no choice!</em>
</p><p>After a month, he truly believed it, and his Hell loop evaporated.</p><p>-0-</p><p>“So Son of Eve, listen up. Once upon a time back when your mother was nothing more than a bone to pick,” she paused dramatically to ensure Abel appreciated her comment and Eve was suitably riled, “there was Adam, the first of a new human species, honed by generations and generations of evolution. Yet still so very, very far away from what a Father might hope for his children.”</p><p>Eve grew still. If Lilith were proposing what she thought she might be, <em>this </em>was huge.</p><p>“Left to his own devices, it would take Adam and his offspring's offspring <em>billions </em>and <em>billions</em> and <em>billions </em>of years to be fit for marriage with God's children.”</p><p>“Are you saying,” asked Eve, “that humans were meant to evolve … into <em>angels</em>?!”</p><p>“Something like that. At least, according to The Plan, <em>originally</em>. He couldn't very well marry off his daughters and sons to each other. Just the thought … ugh, how utterly distasteful.”</p><p>“So what was <em>your</em> role?” asked Abel.</p><p>“I, too, was of a human branch, <em>different</em> from Adam's but <em>equal</em>. Each of us born from a man and a woman, both honed by evolution's talented scalpel, neither of us a subset of the other, but I <em>was</em> given a little something extra. It's been called everything from a Demon's Magic to an Archangel's Curse, call it Knowing the True Name of God. What it is, unquestionably, is a power, a gift, a vestigial bit of evolution from a distant reptilian ancestor, an ability to choose, to edit, to store, to select, make corrections, splice and dice, foresee what's needed and not. Just think of me as the universe's finest genetic engineer, if you will, for it was my job to enact The Plan and much more quickly than evolution would have otherwise.”</p><p>“But what happened?”</p><p>“God plonked us down in Eden, a step above Earth, but still far from The Silver City, and told us to get on with it,” Lilith said, combing her fingers through her fringe. “Your father was always a confounding mixture. He was terrified of the responsibility and unsure he could measure up to God's expectations, so I'd sing him siren's songs to calm him … to put him in the <em>mood</em>. But Adam was a lousy lay. A sad snooze in the sack. So overbearing in the bedroom and completely closed off to suggestion or constructive criticism.”</p><p>“She's not wrong,” nodded Eve when Abel looked to her for confirmation.</p><p>“I <em>so</em> didn't need to hear that about my father,” he sighed.</p><p>“So I left him. Flew the coop. Jumped the Garden fence and ran away. Thought I'd go back to my own kind or find another group to join. I enjoyed myself, ate what I wanted and spoke my mind, had sex whenever I wanted, the way I wanted with whom I wanted, until ...”</p><p>“Until …?”</p><p>“God sent some angels to rough me up, and drag me back to Adam, but it took them awhile to find and coerce me. In the meantime, your father whinged, and Yahweh provided. One less rib, one more wife.</p><p>“By the time we all met up, Eve had already discovered her taste for large bananas and become the Mother of Humanity; the Angels were destined for an eternity of chaste, single living; and instead of producing God's children-in-laws, my punishment was to provide a new family for his Son in Hell.”</p><p>“So Lucifer is the father of all demons?”</p><p>“Oh no … do you not <em>know</em> how the she-serpent can create? Some of the lady lizards, too, will do the same. She chooses an impressive protector for his size, but an actual mate because he intrigues her with his fluid movements, another for his charming personality or lovely green scales. Perhaps one more because he smells good. She takes their seeds and stores them, and she uses the ones she wants, when she wants to produce the kind of children she thinks will be best suited to thrive. The protector will be none the wiser, if those children are not his, but he will guard their lair and ensure they mature, because he was chosen for that trait.”</p><p>“So my father?”</p><p>“Has several children in Hell. I should introduce you to some of your half-siblings. But I had many partners from many branches. I even took a turn with two of those angels sent for me. And a pinch of <em>that</em> every so often allowed me to give some of my infernal children a number of special traits.”</p><p>“To be honest … I'd actually like that .. to meet some of the others,” admitted Abel.</p><p>“I have another son here, too, Lilith. Do you know where we can find him?”</p><p>“All in good time, Second Wife.”</p><p>“And Lucifer. Where can I find Lucifer? I need to see him.”</p><p><em>Oh, now this was most interesting</em>.</p><p>She just might be able to use it.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Cain sat on the floor, leaning against a wall. It had been a few hours since he beat his Hell loop, and he was exhausted from the effort. He assumed there'd be some silent alarm, or perhaps not so silent, and demons would be busting down the door any minute, but oddly, they did not. It actually took a few days, but eventually Dromos arrived, carrying a tray.</p><p>“Sorry, backup in the far west side cells.”</p><p>“You know the Geneva convention states all prisoners are entitled to food, clothing and medical care.”</p><p>“Huh, I left my surgical tools down a few doors … I could go retrieve them.”</p><p>“Er, no. Not necessary. Is that fresh coffee?”</p><p>“It's hot powdered hemlock from the last of our stores.”</p><p>“Sounds delicious.”</p><p>“Well that's <em>something</em>. I can't guarantee how it will taste to you, but you're already dead, so it can't poison you.”</p><p>Cain figured he had a point, and took a sip.</p><p>“So … is this the part where I sign some papers, you give me back my belongings and I walk through the gates on my merry way?”</p><p>“Heh.”</p><p>“Or maybe there's an escort from up above? … Celestial Express flight? Staircase to Heaven? … Well, don't just stare at me like I'm demented. Help me out.”</p><p>“I am Dromos of the Lilim, created in Hell to eternally torture the damned, loyal to Lucifer, my King. <em>You</em> are a doomed soul. I am not here to help you.”</p><p>“Why the hemlock then, seeing as it won't poison me?”</p><p>“We think we're having some technical difficulties. It's rude to keep your clients waiting. Did you want digestive biscuits, too,” he asked pulling a tubular crumpled package from the pocket of his overcoat. “They're a little dry and stale, but ...”</p><p>“Mmm … yes, thanks – can't hurt me now, right? So this technical problem … what do you demons think is up?”</p><p>“One minute I'm in a cell, popping out eyeballs just like any other Tuesday, next thing I know Squee's running willy nilly through the streets caterwauling about escaped souls.”</p><p>“Escaped? I haven't left.”</p><p>“Not you. A different one. Said he freed himself from his guilt, and just walked out of his cell. Now your loop's kaput. <em>What next</em>, a visit from the Archangel Michael for a friendly game of Cards Against Divinity?”</p><p>“I think you mean <em>Humanity</em>.”</p><p>Cain got a raspberry blown his way for his trouble. “It was a demon game long before some rich, bored buggers in the suburbs of Chicago stole it.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“Back in the 1970s our Lord and his right hand demon went topside for a visit. She must have left a pack behind or maybe someone pinched it. No matter … what goes around, comes around. We demons always get the guilty in the end.”</p><p>“You take pride in your work.”</p><p>“Of course we do.”</p><p>“You run Hell like a well oiled machine. You operate it as though it were your own Kingdom, not just Lucifer's.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“My hell loop isn't broken. And I'll bet neither was the other soul's. You've taken such good care of Hell, it has always run perfectly in the past, right?”</p><p>“Absolutely.”</p><p>“So logically, then, the two of us just must have overcome our guilt. We should be free.”</p><p>Dromos swallowed with a grimace. He couldn't think of another point to argue. He wanted to believe what Cain was saying. It just made sense.</p><p>“I will have to consult with our Lord … but he's in a bit of a funk at the moment.”</p><p>“Lucifer's here? But he loves Earth; said he never wanted to return.”</p><p>“Did he now?”</p><p>“Told me himself when we were working on a project together … 'the company's far greater, the work more interesting and the liquor far superior.'”</p><p>Dromos sighed with disappointment, “That <em>does</em> sound like our Lord … nonetheless, he's back now and <em>that's</em> what counts. Just need to get everything up and running tiptop to make sure he's not disappointed and doesn't decide to pop back up to Earth again.”</p><p>“You know, Dromos, I … might have some ideas to help you with that, but we'll probably need a team. Perhaps you could introduce me to some of your colleagues.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>As Lilith guided Abel and Eve back toward the forest of stone, Eve knew exactly where Lucifer would be – at the center. And not just because the fallen Angel naturally became the center of attention anytime he walked into a room, but because she recognized the patterns of these stone trees. How they grew, how they multiplied, how they housed the damned. Either they were created by the same person who grew Heaven's Tree of Life, once the home of all angels – or by someone who was influenced by that home. Eve would bet her last fig leaf it was the latter. Amenadiel had been overwhelming in his explanations of how it was now so evident that “we” control our destinies. And then Charlotte's story about her cats; and the way some of them saw cemeteries and others pyramids; how she, herself, was able to just grow that spiral slide out of nowhere.</p><p>Lucifer must have designed this structure. Perhaps consciously, perhaps not. Perhaps a mockery of his childhood nest. This wasn't the way that Mery and the others who knew the Underworld described it.</p><p>“Lilith, where are all the individual houses and great public buildings?”</p><p>“We haven't any. Only the cells. They remind me of a hive. My children and I live in tents further away from the center, spread out under the sky.”</p><p>“But … was it always this way?”</p><p>“No,” the Mother of all Demons answered sharply. “But I do not speak of it, anymore than I would propose possession.”</p><p>“<em>Possession</em>?”</p><p>“It's an ability I ensured my children would have. They can leave their infernal bodies behind, and allow their essence to inhabit recently vacated ones on Earth. It used to be such fun back in the day, but <em>someone,” </em>she drawled, eyes looking skyward, “put an end to it a few centuries back.”</p><p>Eve had been watching the highest spire from afar, and now she realized there was a throne perched on top.</p><p>“Why isn't he sitting on his throne?”</p><p>“He's not a lay-about or a sit-about, for that matter. He's a very active king.”</p><p>“Well, when does he usually come back, then?”</p><p>“I couldn't say.”</p><p>Eve knew she was avoiding the question, and as soon as Lilith turned down a snaking side alley, she waited a few moments for Abel to get several steps ahead, and then ducked back to the base column of Lucifer's throne. She pushed the door open and entered cautiously, but was instantly taken by the warm gold tones of the decor. The visual warmth pleased her. While the exterior was exotic and even beautiful in its harshness, this was just so inviting. But it all paled in comparison to the divine figure recumbent on the sofa. Her eyes wandered his face and body, and she was instantly transported so many lifetimes back to a more innocent period, but the want that clenched in the depths of her belly was anything but virginal.</p><p>She moved closer, slowly, not wishing to wake him, but then he opened his eyes.</p><p>“<em>Eve? … </em>Am I dreaming?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Everything's going tits up, and not in the good way. My bloody twin Micheal's an angel in Devil's clothing and ruining my chances with the Detective.”</p><p>“Go back to sleep. I'll send her a text so she realizes.”</p><p>That seemed to make complete sense to him, and he closed his eyes again, before mumbling, “Tell the Detective to call my father in Connecticut about that leaky faucet in her Roman bath. … Now, fetch me the goat, Daniel.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>When they finally found her wandering down one of the alleys, they seemed none the wiser about what she'd been up to.</p><p>“I stopped to adjust my sandal, and when I looked up again, you two must have gone round a corner.”</p><p>“Do keep up, Second Wife.”</p><p>Another few minutes and they stood before a door. The stone trunk it was set in was particularly thick and robust, as though it had been growing a very long time in anticipation of its guest.</p><p>“Yet another Son of Eve.”</p><p>Cain turned quickly to see who had entered. The demons gathered around his communal table all rose respectfully and stood at attention for the lead entrant.</p><p>“Abel? … <em>Mother</em>?”</p><p>Although she'd been planning what to say for literally thousands of years, now that Cain was standing before her, she found she couldn't remember her words.</p><p>“Mother … I … don't know what to say.”</p><p>“Adam and I lived a long time, Cain. You never came back.”</p><p>“No … I couldn't. Father told me to run before God found me, but I think it was your reaction I was more afraid of.”</p><p>“Awww, what a <em>lovely</em> family reunion,” smirked Lilith. “Moving on, now that's all sorted. … Children, you remember Abel, our first resident, and it seems you've all grown chummy with Cain. This, of course, is their mother – Adam's <em>second </em>wife.”</p><p>Before it could devolve into something more vituperative, Cain made an effort to turn the tide back to his favor.</p><p>“Lilith, I've learned a lot from your children in the past few days.”</p><p>“It's true, Mother. He listens. He has good ideas, too,” responded one of the female demons. She was lithe like Maze, but more archaically garbed, as if she hadn't noticed the changing fashions of humans in her care over the last eight centuries.</p><p>“The custom attention you devote to some of the more important guests, the use of variety and updates to keep both the detainee and the detainers engaged … it's just … no detail is skimped on,” he continued. “It's all very impressive. The demons of Hell run a tight ship, but you <em>need</em> Lucifer. It's not <em>just</em> about leadership, is it?”</p><p>“No, no it's not,” Lilith begrudgingly admitted.</p><p>“It's the ecosystem.”</p><p>“<em>You</em> noticed?” asked Cain, frankly baffled over his brother's observation.</p><p>“Well sure. The first thing to consider when you don't really know where you're going or how you'll spend the night, is what you're going to eat beforehand.”</p><p>“Right, of course. Maze mentioned it was either the free buffet or a strip show.”</p><p>Abel pulled an unimpressed face. “Cut the crap, Cain. I'm a herdsman. We look for things … plants, water, animals. From what I've seen outside these megaliths, the land is underdeveloped. What do you demons even eat?”</p><p>“You saw the nostoc,” answered Lilith, but apparently he didn't recognize the name. “Growing beside the stream. The gelatinous bacteria.”</p><p>“Sounds … nourishing,” ventured Cain.</p><p>“Mixed with other fungi and lichens, we've managed, but with Lucifer things will improve.”</p><p>“Why? Why do you need Lucifer to stay?” asked Eve.</p><p>“Because he brings the light.” answered Abel. “I'm right, aren't I? I noticed the difference when I left my cell. It wasn't like that when I arrived.”</p><p>“Yes,” confirmed Lilith. “God never steps foot in this place. Lucifer doesn't just '<em>contain the demons</em>,' he allows our plane to thrive.”</p><p>“How can you be certain?” asked Eve.</p><p>“When he first left on his vacation, we noticed some of the more delicate flora and fauna disappearing, yet <em>something</em> was still sustaining us. At first we thought it was his brother Amenadiel, who was sulking about the gates, but when the Goddess escaped, that's when we realized the difference. Even in her weakened state, she was nothing short of brilliant. When she left, many of the plant species died back and most of the animals. Lucifer briefly returned to Hell two times after that, each time bringing a shot of light to keep us hanging on. Since his return, we have lichens again. I'm expecting mosses and ferns soon, too.”</p><p>“Why don't you just <em>tell</em> him how important it is that he stay?”</p><p>“Because he wouldn't listen. He's self-centered in the best of times, but he's stuck in a bit of a fugue moment.”</p><p>“Is his palace doing that? Generating a Hell loop for him?” asked Cain.</p><p>“No. He's listening to his inner demons. He believes he needs to separate himself from Chloe Decker – <em>some human woman</em> – for her own good. He's undecided. Dreaming of many different possibilities.”</p><p>“How do you know that?” asked Eve.</p><p>“We record his ramblings. He talks to himself. Often. It's 50/50 whether it all develops into a Hell loop.”</p><p>“From what I've learned from the demons about the setup here, couldn't we massage that … make sure it turns <em>into</em> a loop?”</p><p>“Ah, so that's it,” said one of the demons from behind Cain. “You're just after revenge. We may want our Lord to stay, but we'd <em>never</em> imprison him.”</p><p>“It's not revenge. I'd be <em>helping</em> him. The Devil needs his freedom, right? Can you imagine him settling down with a conservative, goody-two-shoes like Decker. If she didn't manage to bore him to death in the bedroom, she'd certainly poison him in the kitchen. That woman <em>cannot</em> cook.”</p><p>“And you plan on giving him his freedom by sticking him in a Hell loop?”</p><p>“Just temporarily. Just until he's experienced enough of a scenario that he's certain he should stay.”</p><p>It wasn't so far off from Maze's plan to get him to flee to Hell after being suspected of Cain's murder. They could make it even more airtight and believable in Hell, though. No outside investigators getting in their way. A wealth of storylines and infinite characters from which to choose. Their verisimilitude would be infinite.</p><p>“Well I may as well confess now, since you'll know it soon enough anyway. I was in his cell. Just before, when I told you I was lost. But I think I might have an idea or two.”</p><p>“Mother, I think this is going to require a bit more than the Garden of Eden story,” said Abel.</p><p>“I wasn't going to suggest <em>that</em>,” tsked Eve. “Not that it hasn't stood the test of time, though.”</p><p>“Ten seconds, let's hear it,” interjected Lilith.</p><p>“Lucifer was dreaming when I entered. He mumbled something about his twin brother messing up his relationship with Chloe.”</p><p><em>All </em>of the demons rolled their eyes, and one couldn't resist laying into Eve.</p><p>“Puh-leeze, like we haven't all seen that old chestnut a million times in other people's Hell loops,” he said, raising one hand and getting ready to tick the salient points off one finger at a time. “One. Good identical twin falls in love. Two. Evil twin sneaks up on love of his brother's life. Three. She can't tell them apart. Four. Oh, no! Good twin is crushed when he discovers love of his life in <em>flagrante delicto</em> with his look-alike even though she doesn't know it. Five. Drumroll, please, Declaring the Dilemma of Devastation: good twin can't decide if he's more destroyed because she cheated on him with his brother or that she couldn't tell the difference between the two.”</p><p>“Yes,” Lilith chuckled. “Always a classic.”</p><p>“Mother,” said Cain much more gently in the face of the demons' mocking, “Chloe would know. She's worked with Lucifer for years now. She'd figure it out. She's just that smart.”</p><p>“Alright,” she sighed while reaching into the hip pocket of her dress and pulling out a thumb drive. “I actually hate to do this to Lucifer, but what about this?”</p><p>“What is it?” asked Lilith.</p><p>“This is Chloe Decker's life so far. Everything she's ever done – well, minus the bathroom breaks and graphic sex scenes – up until a couple of days before I arrived. If you watch the last few scenes, you'll see she's been doing some very interesting research at the Vatican. Research on Lucifer, and with the help of some creepy bearded priest whose mission in life it is to send the Devil back to Hell.”</p><p>Lilith raised an eyebrow, “Well, that has potential.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Cain's cell had transformed into an office straight out of a classic film noir. Not a detective's office, though. A writer's. His battered oak desk featured all the trappings any cinema buff would expect: ash tray overflowing with spent cigarettes, one still lit and resting on the curved divot with an inch of ash still clinging to the rest of the paper; crumpled, ink-stained notes; and a half-filled glass of some cheap amber booze that scented the entire room. The Venetian blinds hung on the window behind were tilted half open, and a bit of flashing neon radiated through in a repetitive pattern, like a lighthouse beacon on a nighttime shore.</p><p>He had his sleeves rolled up, his fedora perched at a rakish angle and a determined expression as he clicked and clacked away, well into the final revision of his masterpiece.</p><p>“Lord, he's a ham,” whispered one of the demons to Lilith.</p><p>“That he is,” she agreed. “But I have to admit, he's one fine architect – spinning that whole scenario with the Vatican Investigator into a betrayal by Decker, then using his own <em>mother</em> as a character in the Hell loop to drive a wedge tearing him in two, and eventually turning it all around so that Lucifer willingly comes back to Hell to protect his Detective.”</p><p>“Not just an architect – an <em>auteur. </em>Remember the opening scene with the Art Deco lights behind our Lord as he played the piano and how they mirrored the carved stone of his throne behind him in the final scene; the repetition and familiarity of old cases mixed into these new ones, like Sol de Javier's burning building with the identically shaped inferno on the set of The Cabin; Sam impaled through the chest on a tangle of barbed wire and Big Nose Brown Shoes impaled through the chest on a steel sculpture of an agave plant; the fancy auction for Lucifer's wings with the fancy auction for the Dessert Mirage. Every chapter, every single scene in this new Hell loop has a scenic or thematic tie to some other case he investigated with Decker. It will feel so natural to him, he'll never question any of it as it unfolds before his eyes. … Oh, and that final moment, making the ultimate sacrifice for her – Cain obviously took that right out of his own playbook when he wouldn't let Decker tell him she loved him. Genius.”</p><p>“Yes, if only the Academy gave Oscars for Hell loops,” said Lilith.</p><p>Cain lifted his fingers from the old Underwood in a gesture reminiscent of a pianist pushing back from his instrument.</p><p>“Do we know if Mom and Able are up yet? We need that plum-sized vial to guarantee we sell the whole story in the end and an updated thumb drive just to make sure there haven't been any contradictory events on Earth that could screw this up.”</p><p>“Nothing yet,” replied one of the demons, who was scanning Cain's typed pages so copies of the script could be easily duplicated for the rest of the demons assigned to Project Keep Our King. <em>I know this poser was born, like a million years ago, but a typewriter??? Time may move in every direction here at once, but isn't it like at least the 19</em><sup><em>th</em></sup><em> century now on Earth? </em>“Abel said as soon as he got far enough up the ladder to reach the Earthly plane, he'd send a rock down the chute and when Eve reaches Heaven, she'll send an apple.”</p><p>“And are we sure you gave Abel the correct combination to Lucifer's safe?”</p><p>“The Boss uses the same combination on everything. It's a running joke down here. Don't know why he bothers locking anything.”</p><p>“Yeah, well that didn't work for Chloe when she wanted to break into his bedroom coffer,” noted Cain.</p><p>“Maze would have put the vial in the main strongbox with the cash and jewels when she got back. We've got it. 666. It's always 666.”</p><p>“I don't like variables. I want this Hell loop tighter than Decker's miraculous, little --”</p><p>“Do NOT finish that sentence! A little respect please for the love of our King's eternal life … after all, it's tragic enough he'll never get to see her again. I don't need to hear about you defiling her.”</p><p>“I didn't <em>defile </em>her. She consented.”</p><p>“Do you honestly believe she'd have said yes if you told her who you were?”</p><p>“She wouldn't have believed me if I tried.”</p><p>“If you gave her a <em>demonstration</em> of your immortality while you still had it?”</p><p>“No, of course she wouldn't have, but don't you dare try guilting me back into a Hell loop.” <em>I had no choice! </em>“Besides, I wouldn't be able to help all of you demons if I were locked up, now would I?”</p><p>“No, I suppose not.”</p><p>“So … allies, yes?”</p><p>“A match made in Hell. Clearly.”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Roman Holiday</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aranjuez Prison is about a 40-minute drive south of Madrid. A minivan driver greeted Chloe and an international cohort of five other police officers in their hotel lobby at 8 a.m. and handed out paper cups full of thick liquid chocolate and a pair of churros wrapped in greasy napkins to each participant to enjoy during the ride. She supposed this was the local version of coffee and donuts, and enjoyed the beverage even if it wasn't a soy milk, sugar-free caramel drizzle, decaf latte. To be honest, it was better. Lucifer would no doubt have lectured her on how she should try a little harder to widen her culinary palette.</p>
<p>
  <em>But he's not here, and you really have to stop doing that, Decker.</em>
</p>
<p>She had expected there would be some sort of introductory lecture before the field trip, but no, the representative from the European League for Humane Justice, who met them at their hotel yesterday, said they'd considered both scenarios, but decided to commence with the tour. Now she knew why. This kind of impact just wasn't deliverable in a Power Point presentation with static photos. She didn't even think it would have been possible to do the subject justice (<em>pun intended, Detective?</em>) in a filmed documentary.</p>
<p>There's just something so coolly institutional about a prison. The official signage, the obvious increase in security over other government buildings, and the scent of despair and depression mingling with whatever unperfumed commercial grade cleaning agents were used throughout. The Disney character decorations and the pop-colored furnishings were unexpected. So were the children.</p>
<p>Aranjuez contained a living experiment: 36 family cell units, in which incarcerated parents could live with their three-year-old-or-younger children. When their guide explained this, Chloe assumed these were non-violent criminals. She could see the value of not separating a young child from its mother over something like tax fraud or shop lifting.</p>
<p>After visiting the daycare center, where parents dropped off their children each morning before heading to their jobs throughout the prison complex, the six visiting officers were each assigned a translator and a prisoner for individual Q&amp;As.</p>
<p>“Detective Decker, this is Sofia Morales. Senora Morales --”</p>
<p>“It's OK. You don't have to translate. I speak some English.”</p>
<p>“Senora M-”</p>
<p>“No. Sofia's fine.</p>
<p>“Sofia, why are you here?”</p>
<p>“I stabbed my boyfriend six years ago when I found out he was cheating on me. I killed him.”</p>
<p>“But your son is only two, right?”</p>
<p>“Miguel wasn't his father. I met my son's father here in prison. Not in the family wing, of course. We were both single, then.”</p>
<p>“So you were married in prison?”</p>
<p>“Yes. And Carlos was born here.”</p>
<p>“How do you feel about that?”</p>
<p>“It's not perfect. But it's Heaven compared to the normal prison.”</p>
<p>“Do you think this is a good environment for your son?”</p>
<p>“I don't think he really understands that mama and papa are in prison now, but I worry what will happen when he has to leave in another year. He's the best thing in my life now, though. I hope that somehow he'll be able to remember that love when I get out.”</p>
<p>“How much longer will you be here?”</p>
<p>“It could be another six years, but there is some chance they would release me sooner.”</p>
<p>“And your husband?”</p>
<p>“He was caught on drug dealing. He has four more years.”</p>
<p>“Who will watch your son when he has to leave?”</p>
<p>“I'm lucky. My sister has three kids. A husband with a good job at a university in Barcelona. She'll take Carlos. Other mothers, if they have no one, an agency puts them with other families.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Sofia. Thank you for sharing. I … wish you and your family good luck.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>They gathered later in the canteen, where a number of inmates had prepared and were now serving lunch. Chloe found it surprisingly palatable, and she didn't think that was just because of her untutored palate. It was obviously much better looking than what she knew was routinely served in California prisons, and <em>they</em> were actually close enough to get farm to table deliveries if they bothered to set it up.</p>
<p>Chloe took a seat at one of the long tables and the other officers soon joined her. She dug into her tortilla espanola, just as the rep from the ELHJ arrived and walked over to the end of their table.</p>
<p>“So … I imagine that was eye opening for some of you. I know there are a few places in the U.S. that will allow a woman to keep a baby born in prison with her for a short time, but usually, they are immediately taken away at birth. Also – for those of you from the U.S. – I know there's a strong civil rights movement in your country working to prevent children from living with imprisoned parents. We recognize it's a fine line here. No one sees this as an ideal situation.”</p>
<p>“Then why allow it?” asked Chloe.</p>
<p>“Two main reasons. First, we believe that early family life is critical to the development of the children. Many of our psychologists believe that this early bonding will teach the children how to form relationships in the future, and without that, they are at a great disadvantage. At this early age, these children do not know they are in prison, but they do know they are with their parents.”</p>
<p>“And the other reason?” prompted another officer.</p>
<p>“The parents are significantly less likely to reoffend when released. They become invested in their children's lives. They want to be there for their children, do their best to get jobs, so they can support themselves and their families.”</p>
<p>“It seems to me this program offers a lot of leeway for abuse,” commented one of the other officers.</p>
<p>“You're right. And yes, we've had a few serial mothers. It's hard to say goodbye to the family wing when you know you have another 5 years to go. … It's not ideal. We're all very concerned about the unhappiness that is caused when the child has to leave at age 3.”</p>
<p>“Have there been any studies?” asked Chloe.</p>
<p>“Yes, but so far it's inconclusive. Some want to extend the time until the children are school aged. Others think they shouldn't even be here past a year. Our point in beginning here, though, is to start a dialogue about how important human connections are, and that to deny them to prisoners is not only unfair punishment, but it also doesn't really accomplish what prisons should be for. The goal should not be to make people suffer. The goal should be to prepare them for rejoining society. The less normal their lives in prison, the less normal and ill prepared for life back in the real world they will be.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Law enforcement work had its upsides from time to time, and not just because it meant an endless supply of handcuffs for your civilian consultant to pilfer. Chloe had filled out the appropriate applications and had them signed by both Chief Monroe and the sponsors of the Humane Justice program in the hopes of gaining access to the Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana in Rome. It wasn't unusual for scholars in the field to consult their extensive collection on Law and Philosophy. And under normal circumstances, which is to say when she was on a regular vacation and her partner <em>wasn't </em>the actual Devil, she may actually have spent an afternoon perusing those works, especially given the theme of her program. However, given that circumstances were anything but normal, she thought she might have a peek at the no-doubt extensive archives the Catholic Church had devoted to Satan.</p>
<p>Like every other modern detective, Chloe began her search ahead of time with the Internet. The Vatican had already digitized much of its collection, however, she quickly discovered searches for Lucifer, the Devil and Hell, yielded few results. Not too surprising, though. What person in their right mind would allow such a disturbing collection to be accessed by just anyone?</p>
<p>At the main entryway, she looked to her left and saw one of the ubiquitous holy water dispensers, and automatically reached out her right hand.</p>
<p>
  <em>When in Rome …</em>
</p>
<p>While Chloe's religious education had consisted primarily of the aforementioned nine months of visiting many of LA's more atypical religious offerings, Penelope had also prepared her daughter how to fake it within the standards. Not because her mother had any particular regard for mainstream religions, but because there were considerable roles available for children in holiday productions.</p>
<p>“<em>Pumpkin, form the sign of the cross the wrong way, and you can kiss that role, goodbye. Everyone knows this! Now give me 25 more crosses, and try for a little more expression at the wrist.”</em></p>
<p>Of course that cloudy water, which had already been touched by a thousand germy fingertips did <em>not </em>need to come into contact with any Hollywood hopeful's pampered face. Penelope favored the patented Middle Finger Method, in which you dipped with said finger, flicked the water to the side, tucked the middle finger back securely to your palm with a come-hither movement, but then crossed yourself with a gently curved and sanitary pointer. It all looked very convincing and kind of mimicked the hand pose of a lot of the gentler he's-our-good-shepherd-type Jesus statues.</p>
<p>She expected dark corners as she stepped through the main entryway and through the arch that led to the library, maybe some atmospheric incense and flickering candles, and of course the requisite bloody (literally, <em>not</em> the way Lucifer used the word) Jesuses everywhere, but the main hall as well as the reading room were bright and spacious. The recently restored frescoes were a marvel, and she really wished she could spend a few hours leisurely examining all the art. But she had a mission, and so she made what requests she could of one of the librarians on duty. A while later a few volumes were brought to her, and she donned a pair of surgical gloves to protect the pages.</p>
<p>It was all quite disappointing though. She was better off looking for translations on the Internet, rather than wading through a variety of languages she couldn't read. Numerous illustrations depicting the Devil devouring people through his multiple mouths and then popping others out below through what looked like a giant vagina mouth, on the other hand, <em>were</em> terrifying, and she took a few photos with her phone, hoping that if she studied them later they might make more sense.</p>
<p>
  <em>I wonder why they emasculate him in all the art? I mean, the Devil and Eve were supposed to be all about sex. Isn't that the origin of the whole one-eyed trouser snake bit? Was he somehow conflated with some monstrous destroyer goddess? God's ex wife, who for awhile back, Lucifer kept insisting had escaped Hell and was after him? Was that all literal, too?</em>
</p>
<p>Well that gave Goddess pause. Destroyer, certainly. She was more than happy to throw a plague or flood in humanity's direction given the species had taken up so much of her husband's time, but <em>monstrous</em>? Goddess was insulted, and started pushing harder than ever against her universe's membrane.</p>
<p>As Chloe began packing up to leave, she felt a hand on her shoulder and quickly spun around.</p>
<p>“I'm terribly sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. I was told by one of the librarians that you might need some assistance.”</p>
<p>“Oh, you mean they told you there's a crazy American woman asking for everything in the collection about the Devil.”</p>
<p>“I can assure you, I don't think you're crazy. But I believe I can help. Would you be willing to come to my office? It's just across the courtyard.”</p>
<p>“Oh. Okay, just let me return these.”</p>
<p>“Don't bother. I'll have them collected,” and he signaled an assistant who was observing the reading room before leading her toward the back entrance.</p>
<p>“Forgive me. My name is Father Kinley.”</p>
<p>“Chloe -” she extended her hand.</p>
<p>“Decker, yes. I examined your application a few days ago. I thought you said you'd be consulting the Law and Philosophy holdings.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I <em>did</em> say that on my application.”</p>
<p>“No doubt because you didn't want us to think you were just another crazy American.”</p>
<p>“No doubt about it,” admitted Chloe. “Are you escorting me to the exit, then? Or are we headed to your office to open an official inquiry into alleged fraud?”</p>
<p>“I head a little-publicized cadre of Vatican researchers devoted to investigating claims of demonic possessions, of people claiming to have dealings with the Devil, or of even <em>being </em>the Devil, himself.”</p>
<p>“You're an exorcist?”</p>
<p>“When needs must.”</p>
<p>“I see. I think we're finished here. If you want to call the police or file a complaint with my --”</p>
<p>“I have no such desire,” he said cutting her off, and damn if it didn't bother her that he'd chosen that particular word. “But I do possess items … research, considerable intelligence on one Lucifer Morningstar, which I believe will interest you.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>“Yes, hello. Um … parlez-vous anglais?</p>
<p>“Yes, Madam. How can I help you?”</p>
<p>“This is Detective Chloe Decker of the Los Angeles Police Department in California. I recently worked with an Agent Jacques Lafayette out of your office in Lyon. Can you connect me to him?”</p>
<p>“Yes, please hold.”</p>
<p>“Detective Decker. Are you still in Spain? How can I help you?”</p>
<p>“Hello, Agent Lafayette. So far the program has been … thought-provoking. But I'm calling because I'm in Rome now, and seem to have stumbled upon a surprisingly shady character. I was wondering if you might have any background on him.”</p>
<p>“Of course. Tell me the name.”</p>
<p>“Father William Kinley. He titles himself an official Vatican Investigator.”</p>
<p>“<em>Merde</em>.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“This is a a bit of a gray area for us. We try to stay out of religious matters, and let the Church police their own.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, because <em>that's</em> obviously gone so well for the last century.”</p>
<p>“You're not wrong, but there was a time when Interpol was controlled by the Nazis so we really make an effort to sidestep politics and religion.”</p>
<p>“Lafayette, I was just handed a fancy perfume bottle filled with poison and told I had to make sure my civilian consultant drinks it.”</p>
<p>“The one who tells everyone he's the Devil?”</p>
<p>“Yeah.”</p>
<p>“Give me a minute. Our computers only work 37 hours per week.”</p>
<p>“One day we're going to have a sit down, and you're going to have to explain all these cultural jokes. I'm making a list.”</p>
<p>“Name the time and place, and I'll be there. <em>Son of a</em>-”</p>
<p>“What?! Another pedophile?”</p>
<p>“No. He's an exorcist, but not just the kind that whispers a bunch of mumbo jumbo and douses the victim with holy water. We have no cases on him, because the families always cover it up. They're all believers.”</p>
<p>“But what does he do?”</p>
<p>“Well, he tries to expel the Devil whenever some rich parents want him out of their rebellious or atypical child. And when the holy water and chanting doesn't work, he uses more painful methods. He's suspected of at least three deaths. We reported these findings to the Vatican as well as the Roman police, but well, you know the Romans.”</p>
<p>“Um … no, what about them?”</p>
<p>“Between the various old crime families and the Catholics, there's a lot of hand waving and endless cover ups. Haven't you watched The Medicis on Netflix?”</p>
<p>“Well, yes. Trixie and Maze lured me in.”</p>
<p>“Nothing's changed since then. Decker, pour that poison down the drain, and stay away from this. Don't even consider taking it to the local police.”</p>
<p>“Right.”</p>
<p>“Decker, I mean it. Just get on a plane and meet me in – wherever you want. What did you have planned until you have to be in London?”</p>
<p>“I … well I was going to visit Florence, Ravenna, maybe Padua, then a stop in Liege before heading on to the conference.”</p>
<p>“That's an odd … no, I take it back. Maybe not so odd at all. I think I see the theme. I never imagined you'd be one for art history, though. Text me when you're going to be in Liege. I'll meet you for waffles.”</p>
<p>“OK. Thanks.”</p>
<p>“Decker, I <em>do not</em> want to end up reading how they fished your coked up body out of the Tevere in next week's <em>Le Monde</em>. I can picture the sordid headline. You know they'll mention the whole Hot Tub High School connection, too.”</p>
<p>“I'm touched, Lafayette. You really care.”</p>
<p>“I do – <em>seriously</em>. Kinley's dangerous, <em>and</em> he thinks he has the power of God on his side.”</p>
<p>“Got it. I'll be careful.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>She was. You don't go rushing into a gunfight with a spork as your weapon of choice. Or on second thought, maybe Maze would seeing that as more of a challenge. At any rate, she called Lucifer's right-hand demon for backup.</p>
<p>Kinley suspected Chloe might need a bit more convincing as to the seriousness of his mission. He was used to outsiders thinking him a delusional nutcase, but he knew that <em>she </em>actually believed Lucifer to be the Devil. Now, all he had to do was convince her that demonic forces were truly evil. His scrapbook going back several decades hadn't been quite enough. The files one of the Sinnerman's flunkies had forwarded to him hadn't swayed her either. She was a woman of logic and reason. She needed a demonstration.</p>
<p>The possessed and her parents were at dinner. Kinley had invited Chloe to their suite at the St. Regis Grand Hotel to observe. Both she and – although Kinley didn't know it – Maze were hiding in various closets. Chloe had checked the list price of the suite and nearly choked. With its vast rooms and soaring ceilings, it had more cubic volume than three of her mother's beach house. If they were willing to pay that for the exorcism venue, she could only imagine the size of the personal <em>donation</em> that Kinley charged for operational expenses. Chloe was no expert on art or antiques, but she'd read on the hotel's historic renovation webpage that the massive chandeliers were c. 18<sup>th</sup> century from Venice and the silk carpets adorning the walls, a gift from a Turkish sultan of the same era. The whole palace reeked of a level of gravitas and splendor you only routinely experienced in America through film. All the more jarring that at the center of the salon stood a standard issue stainless steel table of the sort you'd find in a morgue or a funeral parlor workroom, complete with tie down straps and protective 6-inch side walls to keep errant liquids from dripping over the edges.</p>
<p>Kinley had explained earlier that the possessed's parents had been given a vial, much like the one Chloe still carried in her purse. They were to aid him in his mission by preparing the subject.</p>
<p>They heard the key, one of the large, weighty, old-fashioned ones so favored in old European Grande Dames, turn in the lock and Chloe drew just a bit closer to the crack between the barely open closet door and its jamb. She saw, presumably, the daughter stumbling slightly, held closely by the upper arms, one parent on each side. A casual observer would think she'd just gone overboard on the red wine, but Chloe could tell there was something more disturbing about her movements.</p>
<p>When the young woman drew closer to her vantage point, Chloe realized she knew her. She was an absolute whackjob. A nutcase. A half-mad stalker, but – and Chloe knew this with absolute certainty – she was not <em>possessed</em> nor had she ever been by the Devil. They hadn't even had sex together!</p>
<p>“Suki Price,” began Kinley with a dreadful whisper-soft, oh-so-concerned voice he used to lull his listeners into a sense of comfort and security. “Your parents have brought you here because they love you. Because they are terribly worried about your well-being. About your immortal soul. Suki Price, your obsession with Lucifer Morningstar is well documented. Surely you realize this isn't normal behavior.”</p>
<p>The fear radiating off of Suki was palpable, but despite her incapacitation from whatever sedative her parents had dumped into her dinner beverage, she was still clearly trying very hard to figure out why she was feeling so confused, who this priest was and what was his intent.</p>
<p>“Of course it's not normal, who else would have the time to devote to keeping track of Lucifer?”</p>
<p>Maze would have cackled if she could have. Suki wasn't as far gone as she had initially feared, if she could come up with that thought.</p>
<p>“And why would you need to keep track of him, Suki?”</p>
<p>“To let all his f-f-followers know what he's up to. How he's … exer … exercising his free will.”</p>
<p>“Followers? Are you leading a group of Satanists? Luring in sacrificial lambs?”</p>
<p><em>Don't you mean goats?</em> wondered Chloe, more and more disgusted by the second.</p>
<p>“Not Satanists, usually … followers … fans … friends … like on Facebook or Wobble.”</p>
<p>“Suki, I'd like you to come over here and sit down on the table. I think if you just take a little rest, you'll begin to realize how confused about all this you've been. Lucifer Morningstar has been using you to corrupt souls, encourage vice, facilitate lies. What he calls exercising free will is just exercising his ability to promote evil, chaos and sin.”</p>
<p>As he spoke he nudged her closer and closer to the table, but she moved forward reluctantly, shaking her head, doubting his words, but not knowing how to respond to what he said. Somehow it sounded logical, and yet she knew it was wrong, too. Suki closed her eyes, took a deep breathe, clenched her fists, and the next thing Chloe heard was Kinley howling in pain, two hands grasping his crotch, and the sharp swish of air displacement as one of Maze's blades swirled from the corner and embedded itself in his neck. Suki fell forward from the force of her ball bashing, and her parents rushed toward her as well.</p>
<p>“Freeze! LAPD. Stop where you are and put your hands in the air. Jurisdiction or not, you're under arrest. Maze will you cuff them?”</p>
<p>“On it.”</p>
<p>Chloe knelt down to ensure Kinley was dead.</p>
<p>“Suki, come-on, you're going to be OK, just let me get you to your room so you can lie down.”</p>
<p>When Chloe returned to the salon, not only were the parents restrained, but also silenced with good old-fashioned duct tape.</p>
<p>“Pretty gutsy Decker, ordering them to freeze without your gun.”</p>
<p>“I had the blade you gave me.”</p>
<p>“Wasn't going to do much good still stashed in your boot.”</p>
<p>“It was a calculated bluff. They're order followers. I planned to poke them in the backs with this before they could turn, if they didn't cooperate,” said Chloe, as she walked back to where she had knelt beside Suki, and picked up a solid length of stainless steel she had dropped earlier.”</p>
<p>“Where did you even get <em>that</em>?”</p>
<p>“I fished around in Suki's closet while I was in there waiting?”</p>
<p>“Do you have any idea what's in your hand?”</p>
<p>“Um …”</p>
<p>As Chloe looked down and all the adrenaline of the evening was finally starting to wear off, she stared at it a few moments and it finally dawned on her.</p>
<p>“Ewww … it's a sex toy.”</p>
<p>“That's no <em>toy</em>, Decker. That's a genuine Limited Edition Lucifer Morningstar Lux – a double-ended dildo, molded from his very own tackle. There were only five of them cast in molten stainless steel and electroplated with platinum. They were all auctioned off a few years back at a charity event for Planned Parenthood.”</p>
<p>Maze quickly snapped a photo as Chloe held the phallus up to the light to examine the exquisitely veined shaft and one of the two perfectly formed crowns. Sure enough, it was engraved with his signature, Lucifer Morningstar 1/5. “Priceless, Decker. This one's definitely going up on Wobble.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Chloe pulled out her own smartphone.</p>
<p>“Decker? It's the dinner hour.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, sorry to interrupt, Jack, but I've got a pair of rich LA parents hogtied, one drugged-but-still-live daughter and one dead Vatican Investigator oozing blood onto the Aubusson rug in suite 10 at the St. Regis Grand. So either <em>you</em> send in the cops, cavalry or Carabinieri, or <em>Maze</em> will be stuffing them in her carry-on bags and hauling them back to LA tomorrow.”</p>
<p>“This is your idea of being careful?!”</p>
<p>“Did you miss the part where I mentioned Maze? I <em>had</em> backup.”</p>
<p>Lafayette let loose a string of French curses as Chloe pulled the phone from her ear, and Maze chuckled.</p>
<p>“Sit tight. I should be able to have someone there in an hour,” he added.</p>
<p>“Thanks.”</p>
<p>“<em>You're</em> paying for the waffles now.”</p>
<p>“You're welcome, Jack.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>All together the Kinley business plus the after-the-fact hand waving – Lafayette was not kidding – cut an entire week from Chloe's vacation, so once the final reports were filed and Suki was safely back on a flight to LA, accompanied by Maze, she decided to pare down her in-person visits to just Ravenna and Liege. The other works of art, which were thematically quite similar to each other, she'd just study from her photos.</p>
<p>She departed from the Carabinieri Comando Stazione Roma near Piazza Farnese and turned right onto via dell'Arco del Monte, which was the opposite of the direction of her vacation apartment, but the officers had insisted she pick up some goodies at Nonna Vicenza. Once sufficiently laden with dolci (<em>That's preposterous, Detective, no one's ever been </em>sufficiently<em> laden with dolci.), </em>she doubled back and walked toward the Ponte Sisto, crossing over to Trastevere. She peeked in the window of Enoteca Ferraro and perused the menu longingly, really wishing she had someone to accompany her to dinner. It had been ages since she'd been someplace romantic like this, probably not since she and Dan were married. Almost, that one time with Lucifer, but he'd left her hanging, and although Pierce rocked the candle-lit, home-cooked meal thing to his advantage, he was actually kind of cheap when it came to going out.</p>
<p>She continued down via del Moro, picked up a couple of pomodoro and salccia foccacia and then a cheap bottle of red at the corner grocer to take back to her apartment. It was actually a chic little place. A tiny, freestanding studio house of its own in the center of a courtyard surrounded by a much larger three-story building, now apartments, but probably originally one large palazzo. Her petite house had likely been the caretaker's digs. If she were younger and single or younger and coupled without child, she could easily imagine spending a summer or even a year here wandering the incredibly irregular paving stones and ancient ruins dotting the centro storico. When she entered, she put her purchases on the small kitchen table, and filled a pitcher at the sink, which she took back outside and used to water the little basil and rosemary plants on either side of the door. She took her wine bottle, foccacia, glass and corkscrew up the short ladder to the sleeping loft and opened the window there to the tiny balconette, just large enough for one small metal folding chair and a cafe table. The sun was setting, the vines climbing the walls already heavy with grapes, distant jazz could be heard from a few doors down, and the moment was beautiful. Not perfect. Perfect would mean she knew where her partner was. Knew that he was well, even if he couldn't be here with her, so she just accepted the momentary gift, poured herself a bit of the no-name and far-too-young Montepulciano d'Abruzzo and let her mind wander.</p>
<p>She'd mentioned to Linda that she may have prayed – informally – in that moment at the loft. She certainly had given Lucifer a piece of her mind outside the beach house, and yet that, too, had really felt more like she was just talking to herself and processing. She remembered her seeing him praying to Amenadiel that one time in Ella's lab. Perhaps there really was a formal element to it if you wanted a response.</p>
<p>Automatically, her acting training kicked in and she was raising her right hand to her forehead.</p>
<p>“In the name of the Father … oh shit,” she said looking skyward. “Sorry, wrong number.”</p>
<p>Definitely, but how to reach the right one? The next time she put her palms together and sat up straight.</p>
<p>“This is a prayer to the King of Hell. Lucifer the Morningstar. The Devil, Sometimes goes by Satan, Beelzebub, the Prince of Darkness and so many others, though he's rather fond of Old Scratch. Are you there Lucifer? It's me, Chloe.</p>
<p>“I know I don't have angel ears or whatever it is one needs to receive prayers, but maybe … I don't know, I'll send you a mental postcard and you can send me some sort of <em>sign</em>. … So, I'm here in Rome on vacation. The food's amazing, the views incredible in every direction. I have a sweet little apartment though the plumbing's a bit challenging in the bath. … I actually caught a bad guy – a priest! -- and believe me, you'd have <em>loved</em> this case. Naturally, it was all about you. I mean really about you – not just you projecting. … But that's not what I wanted to talk about. I wanted to know more about punishment – the eternal kind. Is there a point? Once the victim's dead and gone, once all the relatives and anyone else who may have known the victim have lived their lives and moved on to the next plane of existence, what's the point? Who needs satisfaction or closure or justice at that point? Surely, after eons, the guilty soul knows what he did. What's the point of reminding him forever?</p>
<p>“I miss you Lucifer. I hope you're OK.”</p>
<p>Though she signed off, she continued wondering how she would have felt if Dan had gone to jail for his involvement with Malcolm. What if it had been earlier in their relationship? How would she have felt if Trixie could have stayed with him every other week while he was in prison? Would he have deserved that right? If he'd been punished immediately for shooting Malcolm, might he have learned a valuable lesson there and then, or was the near miss enough to keep him honest?</p>
<p>She thought about Jimmy Barnes in a mental prison after his convenient breakdown, making it impossible to prosecute or punish him for shooting a cop and orchestrating Delilah's murder, and frankly she didn't think he deserved the cushy bed and private room, but she couldn't quite bring herself to answer the question of whether he deserved it all to continue after death. And she thought about Perry Smith, the warden who had gotten away with her father's murder, not just once but twice, only to be taken down by some street thug when the court system had failed her.</p>
<p>“Was <em>that </em>supposed to be some sort of cosmic justice smiling down on me?”</p>
<p>“Were you speaking to me, Detective?”</p>
<p>Chloe looked up and there right above her, lounging on his side atop the Roman tile roof, was a smug Lucifer.</p>
<p>“Lucifer … you're okay.”</p>
<p>“<em>Okay</em>? I like to think I'm rather more than okay. Splendid? Perfect? Divine, even?”</p>
<p>Indeed. Perfectly groomed, not a hair out of place. A fresh Armani suit donned. Not a patch of red, rough skin or bloodied, broken wings in sight.</p>
<p>“How long have you been sitting up there listening to me?”</p>
<p>“Oh … round about your homage to Judy Blume … or more appropriately, Chuck Palahniuk.”</p>
<p>“Why didn't you say something sooner?”</p>
<p>“It's not just about the burning bush or the rainbow, Detective. The timing's critical when you're giving a sign. I was just waiting for an opportune moment.”</p>
<p>Chloe looked back down at the table and took her glass of wine in hand. “Would you like some?” she asked, but when she glanced back up, he was gone.</p>
<p>“Lucifer? <em>Lucifer</em>? Where are you?”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Ravenna had given Chloe a chance to unwind and finally feel as though she were on vacation. A little shopping for Trixie, some relaxing walks around the historic center, and of course, hours of gazing at its famous mosaics. She had even stumbled upon the atelier of a mosaicist with a well-stocked library. She was more than happy to explain a bit of the iconography to help illuminate what Chloe had seen from a distance with a bevy of supplemental close-up photos. The city could be challenging to navigate, though. She had booked a hotel on the ring road, believing the reviews that it was an excellent balance between quality and price, however, it was also terribly inconvenient for walking to the sights. She made sure that wouldn't happen again in Liege, when she texted her travel info to Lafayette.</p>
<p>You: Arriving on the 3rd, Hotel Cathedral 8 p.m.</p>
<p>Lafayette: Breakfast downstairs on the 4th, 9:30 a.m.</p>
<p>It was now 9:45.</p>
<p>
  <em>Why am I always being stood up?</em>
</p>
<p>It wasn't even as if she could easily brush it off at one of the two-person tables wrapping around the outside of the hotel overlooking the square and the cathedral. As soon as she'd come downstairs, the host had shown her to a corner booth and started setting up the table as though he were going to serve high tea to her and her obviously absent companion.</p>
<p>“Decker! Sorry,” called Lafayette across the cafe as he gave a one-armed embrace to the owner. The other was wrapped around a huge bakery box, which he eventually set down on the table next to theirs. “The line was a kilometer long this morning.”</p>
<p>“No bakeries in Lyon, so you had to stock up while you were here?”</p>
<p>“No, no, no. These are for now.”</p>
<p>“In the cafe? Don't they sell their own?”</p>
<p>“Of course, but these,” he gestured to the box, “are much better. <em>The best</em>. Don't worry about the improprieties, though. I already spoke to the manager last night.”</p>
<p>“Coffee, madam?”</p>
<p>“Cafe au lait?” she asked with a slight grimace for her lousy accent.</p>
<p>“Monsieur?”</p>
<p>“Un cafe serre.”</p>
<p>Their coffees arrived momentarily, but what delighted Chloe were all the extras – fresh berries and whipped cream, a small cauldron of bubbling dark chocolate sauce, jams and even a stack of rather thin, plain blond waffles.</p>
<p>“So … I assume there's a lesson here?” smiled Chloe.</p>
<p>“First, for comparison,” said Lafayette, picking up one of the thin waffles, breaking it in two and putting a part on her plate. The rest he took over to a fourtop of profusely grateful students near the window. “This is a gauffre de bruxelles. It's pale, polite, a little pretty.”</p>
<p>“Buuuut?”</p>
<p>“<em>This</em> is a gaufre liegeoise,” he proclaimed while untying the ribbon from the bakery box and folding back the lid. He lifted one of the thick, robust and irregularly shaped, and much more coppery-colored artisanal waffles from the package and put it on her plate. “Taste them both alone first.”</p>
<p>Chloe complied, obviously unimpressed with the first, but quite surprised by the unctuousness of the second.</p>
<p>“Wow. Why does anyone ever bother with the first?”</p>
<p>Lafayette gave a Gallic shrug as he began preparing his own.</p>
<p>“They are cheaper to make. Neat and squared off. Sometimes more convenient for loading up with extras. Maybe just because someone's grandmother always made them that way.”</p>
<p>“What's the secret ingredient?”</p>
<p>“The pearl sugar. It's very dense, with a higher melting point than granulated sugar. The Liege waffle is filled with unevenly distributed clusters of caramelized pearl sugar. It makes for an interesting contrast with the buttery waffle dough.”</p>
<p>“Well it's really lovely,” she said, spooning more strawberries and chocolate sauce onto hers.</p>
<p>“It's good to see you eating something besides those vending machine sandwiches.”</p>
<p>“Seriously? You, too?”</p>
<p>“Come again.”</p>
<p>“It's the kind of thing Lucifer would say to me.”</p>
<p>“I just meant, you were in pretty bad shape when I met you. It's good that you're treating yourself well.”</p>
<p>“Well, I'm trying. Trying to figure out a lot of things, too.”</p>
<p>“I would imagine. And the art history quest you're on … how's that going?”</p>
<p>“Cut a bit short, thanks to Kinley, but I got to see this in Ravenna,” she said, calling up an image on her phone and placing it on the table between them.”</p>
<p>“The oldest known image of the Devil, helping Jesus ... and who would we suppose is the red angel? Michael, perhaps – to separate the sheep from the goats … or so some say.”</p>
<p>“Well, I have to admit there's not much that's very devilish about him with his blue halo.”</p>
<p>“Perhaps he wasn't the Devil you know yet?”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“You're a Christian. I'm a Jew. Our devil is not the same.”</p>
<p>“Whoa. Hold it right there, buddy. Life long agnostic here,” she said touching her breast bone. “Until recently, anyway, when a little brush with death has me reconsidering that <em>maybe </em>there's more to life, the universe and all that. But I am definitely <em>not </em>a Christian.”</p>
<p>“Do you celebrate Christmas?”</p>
<p>“Well yeah.”</p>
<p>“Case closed. You may not be religious, but you're part of the commercial Christian culture of your country. Your parents didn't raise you with any other philosophy to set you apart.”</p>
<p>“That's … mostly true, I suppose. … So how is your devil different?”</p>
<p>“How many weeks are you planning to stay in Liege?” he laughed.</p>
<p>“Come on. Tell me what you can.”</p>
<p>“First, you have to understand there are a LOT of competing ideas held by practicing Jews about the afterlife. Some don't believe it exists at all. When the breath of life leaves you, that's it. Others think there's a hellish experience most of us have to go through after death, but it's not forever. Think of it as more of a purification ritual. After that, some will go to Heaven. Others will just go to sleep. Then of course, there are those who believe a story more in line with the Christian view of Heaven and Hell. Jews have been around for a long time. Our rabbis have been influenced by many other cultures and their ideas. I think there's probably a Judaism out there for just about anyone's needs.”</p>
<p>“And how does Satan fit into all of this?”</p>
<p>“Well, that word in particular – Satan – but with the little “s.” It refers more to an adversary or a hinderer, someone or <em>something</em> that causes you to stumble.”</p>
<p>“A tempter or a temptation?”</p>
<p>“Sometimes, yes. But again, and there's much debate on this, not an evil being. During some periods, the rabbis did not want to accept that God created evil, but he does throw things our way that test us, that make us appreciate the good and when we choose to do good. At other times, different Jews were well aware of the gods of other cultures, and so they co-opted them into an enemy of their own God.”</p>
<p>“What about a Fallen Angel? Not created as Evil, but one who became Evil?”</p>
<p>“Again, Decker, you and I know there are some really vile humans out there, but is any of them ever <em>completely</em> evil? Angels weren't incorporated into the mainstream of our holy literature, but they do pop up here and there. Samael is an ambiguous character. An angel that tends to do what he wants, condoning some of humanity's sins yet punishing others. In some of the stories, he was fallen, yet still an agent of God. … You've stopped eating.”</p>
<p>“I think I've gained ten pounds since you arrived.”</p>
<p>“Come on … time to work it off,” he said, getting up.</p>
<p>“Wait. I haven't paid.”</p>
<p>“Already taken care of.”</p>
<p>“I thought this was my treat?”</p>
<p>“Another time.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>In London, the presentations resumed with professors from Cambridge, who had researched how prison changes the incarcerated, and not for the better. Chloe, of course, knew that particularly with younger felons in the US, prison often offered them the opportunity to make even more criminal connections and build their skillset. She hadn't really ever considered, however, that a tough prison sentence could literally strip a murderer of his or her social ability to reintegrate. Sure, it was hard to get a job when you had a record, and no money often led ex-cons back to crime, but she'd never considered how it could lead to a total inability to trust anyone ever again, and how devastating that would be for someone who had to start a new life. Of course, given her history and profession, she had never been eager to see any of the people she arrested released at all. And in her harsher moments – especially after a really heinous murder investigation – she'd been known to curse in agony over her fiercely divided home state that couldn't manage to overturn death row sentencing, but also never managed to execute a convict since 2006.</p>
<p>Before they began their tour of Halden, a high-security prison in Norway, Chloe girded her loins. She'd visited Pelican Bay and San Quentin as part of an Academy field trip. They were decidedly bleak.</p>
<p>“Back in 1999, a petition was filed in Vermont to extradite a suspected American drug smuggler back to the US from Norway. Our lower courts determined and Superior Courts agreed that we could not do that. Not because we believed Mr. Hendricksen was likely innocent, but because we felt that he would likely be sentenced to stay in an inhumane prison.”</p>
<p><em>Ouch, </em>that<em> kinda felt like a personal attack.</em></p>
<p>She wanted to mention that, hey, it was just her job to round them up, not to decide what to do with them afterwards, and although, yes, that was technically true, she also knew that she was a part of a system, and if you disapproved of one side of it, you probably shouldn't be working for the other half of it. And to be honest, she'd seen her fair share of issues with her own half, as well.</p>
<p>Halden was kind of like taking a stroll through a budget-friendly, European chain hotel or modern college dorm. The prisoners had their own Ikea-like desks, chairs and shelves for storage as well as beds with actual mattresses. They did not sleep on concrete slabs. Each room had a window with decent views and no bars, its own ensuite bathroom and a normal door with a handle. The hallways led to common areas and shared kitchens, at which inmates could prepare their own food. The residents had access to education, training programs, music lessons and a recording studio, yoga classes, a wealth of leisure activities, visits with families or partners.</p>
<p>“We've found that the more opportunities we can offer, the better. It keeps people calm and connected. The only punishment is the loss of liberty, and that's significant enough. Health care, work, voting, entertainment, exercise, education, spirituality – all that remains. Although there are a few special exceptions, the maximum sentence in Norway is 21 years, and most will serve far less if they follow the rules. That means, I may be releasing your neighbor one day. How would you like him to behave when he gets out?”</p>
<p>The next day they headed off to Bastoy, an even more liberal prison without a retaining wall or fence. Granted, it was on an island, but inmates could walk around it freely most of the time they were serving their terms. And again, these weren't just white collar criminals. A felon here was just as likely to have been involved in charity fraud as murder or drug trafficking, and yet they kept horses and other animals, sunned themselves in deck chairs, ran a farm, worked with heavy construction equipment. She even met a murderer whose weapon of choice had been a chainsaw, and now he was here maintaining the forest areas with the same tool.</p>
<p>She thought of Firehawk Ranch. <em>People don't change, Detective.</em></p>
<p>“I suppose the most important question I have is, does it work?” asked Chloe.</p>
<p>“I used to be a prison guard back in the '80s. It was a very macho job back then. All about retribution. Recidivism was 60-70 percent within the first year. Then in the '90s we decided we were going to do something different. We were going to focus on rehabilitation. We would no longer be zookeepers. We retrained ourselves – our program for prison officers lasts three years. We hired more women. We all became partners, and counselors and mentors, and now our repeat rate is barely 20 percent after two years back in public.”</p>
<p>It left Chloe speechless, and not just in a “why can't we do this in our own country sort of way” but a “if there really is some kind of system of celestial justice, why couldn't God have done as well as the Norwegians” way? She hadn't been able to get the Lucifer of Liege out of her mind for the past several days. She and Lafayette had crossed the square, entered the cathedral and she made a beeline for the marble angel tucked behind the elaborately carved wooden pulpit, so broken in his beauty and regret it brought tears to her eyes. But the one detail that bothered her more than any other was the shackle around his ankle. How could God have possibly done that to his son? An eternity in Hell. Even if Lucifer was assigned to rule it, he was still imprisoned, too. He had once told her he cut off his wings, but then his father put them back. Were they just another chain that tethered him to his prison?</p>
<p>“Those are amazing statistics,” added Chloe, “but surely there must be some setbacks.”</p>
<p>“Prisoners who arrive here have made a special application. It's a kind of reward for having behaved well in their previous higher security institution. But some of them can't handle the freedom. Even within our liberal national system there is still more structure in the closed prisons. Some can be a little bit afraid of how they should handle themselves when they aren't being told what to do and when to do it. The thought of eventual total freedom is frightening.”</p>
<p>“What happens to them?”</p>
<p>“Sometimes they return to the previous prisons until they are truly ready, but it's rare. Mostly, we do things with them. For instance we all go into the field and pick potatoes together. We all have an exercise class together. Or we all clear the leaves and brush in one area in the Fall. Inmates and staff as equals. It makes them realize they are people just like us. They are not slaves. They are not <em>working</em> here as a punishment. They are working here to make themselves better. They are <em>still </em>a part of society and doing the things that normal members of society need to do, and they will continue to be that once they are completely free again.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Protests and Pretending</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eve took a step back from the top of the ladder and chute to ensure the shrubbery continued to hide them from any other curious souls. True, she had positioned them on the outskirts of the Silver City, but Eden was a lesson not easily forgotten. <em>Someone </em>was always watching.</p>
<p>While her initial instincts had been to slip down south to save her sons, it seemed they were both doing fine on their own for the moment. No need to disclose her invention to all the others eager to rush into Hell's Gates. After thousands of years of separation and then just getting a glimpse of her first love, she couldn't deny she was tempted to keep Lucifer to herself. And with the way her oldest son Cain The Architect's plan was unfolding, it would likely work. By now, she imagined Lucifer must have reached the point in his Hell loop where he'd been shot at Lux and agreed they'd give couplehood an official go. Although Eve had no idea precisely how Cain was going to resolve the loop to convince Lucifer to remain in Hell (that son of hers had always been so damned secretive), she was certain it would have to be with her as his queen.</p>
<p>As she crossed overflowing fields of columbine and tansy, she was eventually able to step onto the path that evolved into the main esplanade of the Silver City and from there walk on toward the Great Circle, where the choirs gathered five times daily to sing praises to God, the Presence. Cacophony reigned today, however. Three huge flatscreens had been erected in a triangular form at the center, so gatherers could watch from every direction. The crowds were overflowing and raucous as though Christians were being tossed out to the lions in the Colosseum or Thomas Jefferson were proposing that America be allowed to compete in Eurovision. Eve moved closer and was stunned to see Chloe Decker's life broadcasting. Protesters were waving placards calling for everything from Vote NO on Eternal Incarceration to #Deckerstar NOW. Likewise, endless petitions on clipboards were being passed from hand to hand. Eve put a quick scrawl on one supporting visiting rights to damned souls and another calling for volunteers to teach arts and crafts to prisoners in Hell.</p>
<p>The flaming Seraphim descended from God's study on a nearby hill and surrounded the Great Circle of human souls, attempting to muffle the uproar from His holy ears. The red plumes of their fire shook Eve from the frenzy of the mob and reminded her to focus on her mission. She suspected she could do one better than a couple of amateurishly copied files on thumb drives. With the Seraphs occupied, Yahweh's study would be unprotected, and she figured all the main recording controls and editing files for Lives of Your Loved Ones <em>must </em>be holed up there.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Charlotte Richards eased her throbbing feet out of her Kalsos, stretched her long legs out in the air and leaned back in her deskchair, wiggling her manicured toes. Months and months of painstaking research and paperwork were finally starting to pay off. What began as a simple proposal by one ancient Egyptian priest had grown into a Heaven-wide movement, even attracting considerable support from those souls he had once viewed as dead. Their cause had attracted millions of active protesters, as well as a bevy of subgroups who had added tangential grievances and myriad directions in which to throw their adjunct support. Just yesterday, Gabriel with his golden trumpet in one hand and heavy vellum invitation to personally deliver in the other, had urged her to accept and appear before the Council of Angels. Then he waited silently on her doorstep as she read over it.</p>
<p>“<em>I'm sorry, was there anything else?”</em></p>
<p>“<em>Erm … no. I'll be off now. We'll see you tomorrow?”</em></p>
<p>“<em>Yes. You can count on it.”</em></p>
<p>Now that she thought about it, and as silly as it sounded, it looked as if he were waiting for a tip. Lucifer, in the midst of some insane sleep-deprived behavior not long before her death, had once mumbled something about his deadbeat, kazoo-tooting brother still owing him, but she'd assumed he was talking about Amenadiel at the time. But what did one give as currency in Heaven? She'd learned from another soul that the “additional fee” required for the musically-scored version of Lifetime of Your Loved Ones consisted of an extra helping of “Hosannahs” to the Big Guy offered freely each evening before bedtime, but geez, even though she'd made it to the Silver City she was still no Mother Teresa.</p>
<p>“Hello?” asked a voice, while rapping on her door knocker.</p>
<p>“Sorry. Please come in,” she called back and slipped her feet back down to the floor.</p>
<p>“Ms. Richards?”</p>
<p>“Yes. Can I help you?”</p>
<p>“I think I may need legal counsel.”</p>
<p>“Well, I'm a bit busy at the moment, but you've come to the right office.”</p>
<p>“The only office, it would seem.”</p>
<p>“True. So how might I help?”</p>
<p>“My name is John Decker, and I need for all this protest nonsense to end.”</p>
<p>“Nonsense?”</p>
<p>“My daughter, Chloe Decker, does not deserve to become some martyr in a cause devoted to – of all people … or rather <em>angels –</em>The Devil.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Michael dashed through the doorway of the massive center trunk in the Forest of Tree, fully expecting to be late, however, the fourteen chairs surrounding the grand round table in what was once the Goddess' dining room remained empty.</p>
<p>
  <em>Angels.</em>
</p>
<p>He shook his head, allowed himself to fall into one of the generous, cushioned barrel chairs, closed his eyes and started rubbing his right shoulder. It ached as though the injury were new whenever he spent more than a few minutes around Chloe Decker, and yet he forced himself to keep popping into her life to prevent her from turning to Lucifer in prayer. Father, but he'd even had to barge into her bedroom once when she'd pleasured herself, because he was certain she was about to send a very longing shout out to his twin. Needless to say, it was awkward for him, but the woman actually didn't seem all that surprised.</p>
<p>Interacting with Lucifer's other humans to keep up the facade was a difficult tightrope act. Ms. Lopez seemed to know Lucifer on some vague metaphysical level, and she was clearly suspicious. And as the patron of all police and military, it offended him deeply that Daniel Espinosa did not offer him a tad more respect. Yes, he got it that he was pretending to be his brother, but still, that kind of mojo couldn't be shut off with a switch and should be oozing out of him just as his twin's call for desires was like a magnet to all humanity. Aside from Chloe, Amenadiel had been the easiest to fool, but of course, he and Luci had been playing that joke on their big bro for eons before Lucifer Fell, and The Fury of God never caught on.</p>
<p>But Chloe Decker … what a dedicated human … and such a puzzle. It must be a product of her miraculous status. He was beginning to feel like some lowly guardian angel, whipping her out of the way of a racing car or a stray bullet. But he just couldn't afford to have her die and end up in Heaven too soon, because he was certain Lucifer would come after her in that case. And while he may have been able to defeat his brother in a war over philosophies, he did not think the entire Host stood a chance against Lucifer if it were over his love of a miracle. So he'd visit her when she was taking a lunch break and looking a little lonely, again afraid she might call on his twin in prayer. And whenever she was devoting more than a few hours at her multiple white boards trying to reconcile the dual nature of his brother, Michael would fly down and try to distract her, or convince her this Assyrian myth got it all wrong or the Muslim tales of Iblis were utter poppycock when in fact there was more than a grain of truth in each. He needed her to think of Lucifer as a dangerous guy. Someone who might be a bit fun but was also eternally toying with her. Someone of whom she should be afraid. At least that's what he told himself.</p>
<p>“Michael, care to join us, now?” asked Azrael, the little imp.</p>
<p>Nearly half the seats had been filled during his reflection and several other angels and two human souls were just walking through the doorway. One of the latter stopped in her tracks when he caught her eye.</p>
<p>“<em>Lucifer?!”</em></p>
<p>He stood with some difficulty, not wishing to mimic his twin's pole -up-his-ass posture, and spoke in his own voice, “No. I am the Archangel Michael. And you,” he added gesturing to her hands, “must be the famous Charlotte Richards.”</p>
<p>Her eyes widened a moment, but just barely. “Angelic twins?”</p>
<p>“Only one of us is angelic now.”</p>
<p>“Shall we begin?” interrupted the Messenger of God.</p>
<p>Charlotte was no stranger to Parliamentary procedure, but honestly she couldn't fathom the need for Gabriel to read an hour's worth of minutes from the last meeting. By the time he'd recited all the extracts of their various petitions, and the laundry list of complaints from legions of angels who found their protests disruptive, nearly half the Council was snoozing. Azrael elbowed Michael in the ribs, at which he startled awake with a shout.</p>
<p>He looked around sheepishly at all the eyes turned his way, “Pardon. I haven't been sleeping well lately.”</p>
<p>“Funny, you seemed to be doing really well there,” quipped Azrael.</p>
<p>“So, Counselor Richards, you sent a last-minute note of another case.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I realize this is highly irregular, and may seem like a conflict of interest. Fact of the matter is it <em>is </em>a conflict of interest, but seeing as I'm the only legal representation available to serve human souls, well … I'm just going to let my new client say his piece, but let me stress that what he's about to say in no way diminishes my class-action representation for the other souls, nor does it indicate a change in any of my personal opinions on the matters.”</p>
<p>“Very well,” agreed Gabriel. “John Decker, you have the floor.”</p>
<p>Although neither Azrael nor Michael expressed surprise at the name of the human, several others gave audible indications.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Gabriel. Yes, my name is John Decker, and I am the father of Chloe Decker, the lead character in a drama that's playing to sold out audiences in Heaven and for all I know, Hell, too.</p>
<p>“But see … <em>my</em> concern is for <em>my</em> little monkey's life. Not the Devil's. As far as I'm concerned, he's where he needs to be, in Hell. But thanks to a couple of want-to-be do-gooders, my daughter's entire life is being broadcast to all and sundry 24/7.”</p>
<p>“Objection, John Decker. This is Heaven. We do not broadcast lives in their entirety.”</p>
<p>John Decker looked slightly confused.</p>
<p>“Gabriel means we edit the reproductive and elimination scenes,” clarified Raphael.</p>
<p>But John still hadn't cottoned on.</p>
<p>“And Raphael means to say we've cut the sex and bathroom shots,” added Azrael.</p>
<p>“Right. I stand corrected. That's not the point though. Her entire life has been co-opted as a public relations campaign to rebrand the Devil. And these souls that are all itching for the right to go down to Hell? Eventually, one of them is going to reach out to the Devil and encourage him to do more than just pop up to Earth for a five-minute visit, and frankly, I don't want to see her hurt again in any way.”</p>
<p>“John Decker, I honestly can't believe I'm about to say this, but I don't actually believe my twin would hurt her. He has returned to Hell because he caused her terror. His few brief visits have only served to protect her further.”</p>
<p>“And what about the rest of you?”</p>
<p>Several eyebrows rose about the table.</p>
<p>“We know we cannot kill humans,” said Remiel, and all the others agreed readily.</p>
<p>“You tossed your brother down to Hell because he wanted to change the rules, because he had different thoughts … and oh, yes, I know he foolishly chose violence and may have done so many wicked and devious things since then, but his rebellion was based on new ideas. And so are the soul protests at the moment. If you choose to reject <em>their</em> ideas, what's to stop <em>them</em> from rebelling? Will you punish all of them or will you merely silence the one who has inspired them as an example?”</p>
<p>“As patron of police everywhere, I give you, a faithful former officer, my absolute word that no harm will befall her as a consequence of any of these protests.”</p>
<p>“Well … I suppose that's something. I will hold you to your word.”</p>
<p>“Now that's settled John Decker,” said Gabriel, “you may take your leave before we continue on to the next matter. Your Counselor will draw up a record of the promise for you.”</p>
<p>John Decker nodded and left.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Goddess had finally pierced a tiny hole in the membrane wall. Small enough so that space-time wouldn't implode in one direction or the other, but large enough she could just send a bit of herself through one photon at a time -- a lengthy process but she was receiving a bit of intel courtesy of her young omniscience so that kept her from growing completely bored.</p>
<p>
  <em>That ankle-biting Eve!</em>
</p>
<p>Goddess knew nothing good could ever have come from her allowing that little run-up and her ham-handed husband into Heaven, but she had thought that if she gave an inch, maybe, just maybe her Beloved would capitulate on the whole letting her Lightbringer back into Heaven thing.</p>
<p>Mortal souls were <em>never</em> intended to end up anywhere in particular after death. For 27 reincarnations of the universe it had always worked that way. Every living thing from the simplest blade of grass to the most exquisitely honed-by-evolution apex predator had a soul, but just like matter and energy, they all needed to be conserved and recycled to keep the system balanced. For most of Earth's 4 billion years, it had continued as well, and then all of a sudden round about what humans might call Lucifer's teenage years, her other half had started taking a preternatural interest in these monkeys limping toward humanness. He wanted to gift them a modified immortality as well, and she had argued over it bitterly. Then Eve's idiot offspring killed his brother and sped up the deadline on What To Do About All of It. God, of course, wanted to bring him to Heaven, but Goddess was having none of that Earthly mud tracked about <em>her</em> Silver City, so she shooed him down to Lucifer to keep her banished son occupied. Many more would follow. Some 900 years later, God realized Adam and Eve were growing very weary of their lives, and he begged Goddess to allow just these two a special place in Heaven.</p>
<p>Goddess gave in, but God only continued to watch his rebel son from afar as he enabled the souls to build new lives for themselves.</p>
<p>And <em>this</em> is the thanks she gets. She had opened the doors of paradise to her husband's toys, and now one of them was plotting against her son, breaking into God's office and stealing secrets to carry back down to Hell. Eve entered the room and paused, a bit shocked. Goddess could feel she expected a different look, something more like Lucifer had chosen for his penthouse or some cluttered Mancave favored by Adam. But this sterile, gleaming marble? There were no furnishings. It was a room without comfort or sentimentality. No inspiration or passion. It was the room of someone who either did all his living outside of it or inside his mind. There <em>was</em> one table, though, and Eve walked over. On it sat several devices of a sort she'd never seen, but the word kaleidoscope came to mind in the odd sort of way that language seemed to function here in Heaven. She picked one up and looked into the eyepiece and what she saw was a world not so unlike the one she had experienced, but not quite the same. And as she looked at more and more of the cylinders, she realized that these were options.</p>
<p>When Uriel had still been in Heaven, Eve had listened to him with great curiosity as he pontificated about patterns. Listened and learned about the butterfly effect. Each of these mechanicals showed a different world, changed by a different circumstance, and though she suspected they were capable of showing everything and everyone on the planet, they were narrowly focused at the moment. No matter how the circumstances and players switched about, two kept ending up together over and over.</p>
<p>
  <em>Perhaps Yahweh just hadn't considered the right variable.</em>
</p>
<p><em>Oh, the presumption!</em> thought Goddess. Enough of her had reached the other side of the membrane that she could take her leave. Plenty of her still resided in the new universe, but she'd be able to condense this other bit into a more convenient form as well as tinker where necessary to heal some elements of her old home.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>“So … to continue, rather than reread <em>all</em> of our submitted evidence,” said Charlotte glancing over at Gabriel, “which I'm sure you've <em>all</em> studied in light of the importance of these negotiations, I'd like to hear what's on some of your minds. Just … your a priori thoughts on the subject.”</p>
<p>“Many of us never wanted them here, so I say let them go,” stated Remiel.</p>
<p>“Technically, given the ever increasing size of humanity, that could be a problem for Hell, though,” added Azrael.</p>
<p>“Precisely why there's supposed to be an End of Times.”</p>
<p>“Stop joking about that! It hasn't even been penciled in for this millennium,” chastised Gabriel.</p>
<p>“Wait … why? Why is population size an issue?” asked Charlotte.</p>
<p>“Because the dimensions of Hell aren't infinite, and due to it's location --” the Angel of Death noted that this was a concept that would be near impossible to explain to a human without the proper theoretical physics background – at least not without a good metaphor. “Look … think of it this way. Consider Lucifer's building in Los Angeles, The Sunset Tower. The Earth that it's intersecting is really the Earth.”</p>
<p>“Intersecting?”</p>
<p>“Bear with me … everything you see of the building sitting above the ground that Lucifer has leased out to the hotel group as well as his penthouse represents Heaven, and it's not so hard to imagine that if you had the right tools you could add more and more rooms between the ground floor and the top, making it infinitely higher or wider. Given Eleanor Bloom's been taking down other structures right and left on that block, there's plenty of open space around it, right?”</p>
<p>“Ooookay?”</p>
<p>“But if you enter at the ground floor and take the stairs down to Lux, the thought of an expansion becomes much more tricky. The club is in the basement. You can go down a bit further into the parking levels, but that's it. If you want to expand any of the lower levels you have to dig into the earth <em>and</em> you risk disturbing the building's foundations.”</p>
<p>“So, are you telling me that Hell is the foundation on which Heaven has been built?”</p>
<p>“Well, it's really more complicated, and philosophically, it's not <em>quite</em> true, but literally – yes. <em>Yes</em>, I think you've got the picture.”</p>
<p>“But why would anyone <em>do</em> that?”</p>
<p>“Our Father moves in mysterious ways --,” smirked Michael.</p>
<p>“Do <em>not</em> continue with that doggerel,” interjected Raphael, “It happened that way because of The Bet.”</p>
<p>“Okay, I'll bite. Which bet?”</p>
<p>“Between Mother and Father. When we were all much younger, Father was expounding on the nature of divinity, the gluons of the universe and how none of it could evolve without His Presence.”</p>
<p>“And Mother would have laughed up an organ if she'd been corporeal at the time,” added Michael.</p>
<p>“So she doubted him?”</p>
<p>“She didn't <em>doubt </em>him,” answered Remiel. “She knew better. After all she'd presided over the previous 27 universes for infinite time before creating Him.”</p>
<p>“What?!”</p>
<p>That, of course required another hour's worth of explaining to bring Charlotte up to speed. Not that it should ever have been that difficult to figure out anyway. Goddess of All Creation pretty much lays out the operational flowchart in the name. And when Charlotte considered the way nature worked on Earth, it was pretty clear you could have an asexually reproducing species or a species that went from asexual to sexual reproduction, but the female type existed first and gave rise to an eventual male type as an adjunct, not the other way around.</p>
<p>“Well that's a load to take in, but what does it all have to do with The Bet?”</p>
<p>“Father didn't believe that life could develop just anywhere. He told us it was only through His Presence,” reiterated Gabriel.</p>
<p>“So Mother proposed a pocket realm, where neither she nor Father would ever set foot,” continued Remiel.</p>
<p>“And …?”</p>
<p>“And <em>that</em> was conveniently afixed below the other planes, where neither really had a desire to go, anyway. Who would?” ended Raphael. “The proper essential particles were added, and that was that. Just wait for the experiment's results.”</p>
<p>“But what happened?”</p>
<p>“Well, we'll never know now. Father insisted it wasn't working. Mother, that it needed more time, but then the whole Rebellion exploded, and Lucifer was sent down to the basement to learn his lesson; Lilith ordered to help him when she defied Adam and Father; and Abel and the rest of humanity when Mother refused human entry into Heaven. The natural system that might have evolved was completely interrupted.”</p>
<p>“And, I think that I pretty much know the story from that point. But surely a few visitors from time to time couldn't hurt? And if the whole point of the visitors is to <em>reduce </em>the infernal population.”</p>
<p>“At the moment, we have no reason to believe that's possible,” answered Raphael. “Your departure from Hell was a very special case. No other soul has ever arrived in Heaven by their own doing … well, except for the one, and he wasn't one of the one's holed up in his room and refusing to socialize.”</p>
<p>“Yes. But <em>that</em> means it's theoretically possible. And surely with all the psychological studies we've presented in our arguments (courtesy of Chloe Decker), you surely have to accept that, particularly with caring intervention, it could work for more of the souls in Hell. Can we at least get a vote on that question?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” agreed Gabriel, mainly because the vote ritual was one his favorites. He rose and walked over to the sideboard, where a series of glass jars filled with red and white stones were resting. He placed one in front of each of his siblings. “Red for a yea, white for nay. The question is whether you are willing to accept that the humans' kinder approach toward incarceration and leading to rehabilitation might also work for perdition.”</p>
<p>Then he brought over a wicker globe with a small opening at its top. He reached into his jar scooping up several stones, secreting them in his palm. When he'd dropped one into the basket, he passed it to Raphael. After the globe had toured the circumference of the table, Gabriel turned it upside down, emptying the stones into a clear glass bowl. “The yeas are victorious. 8 to 4.”</p>
<p>“Excellent,” smiled Charlotte. “Now what if we were to proceed with an experiment of our own? Say … we allow a group of 50 to make visits for a period of two months, and we see what progress can be made?”</p>
<p>“You will need an independent evaluator to gauge if there's been any improvement, given we cannot count on their complete redemption in such a short period. Ideally, that would be a demon. They are already there and familiar with the souls,” noted Raphael.</p>
<p>“We're going to need Lucifer's permission, too,” added Gabriel. “We wouldn't take kindly to him barging back into Heaven. He must be offered the same courtesy.”</p>
<p>Charlotte was impressed, but wondered if he were just afraid of Lucifer's reputation.</p>
<p>“I will propose the plan to my twin.”</p>
<p>“That's bonkers, Mikey,” cried Azrael, “The last time you saw him, you were leading the legion that brought him to his knees.”</p>
<p>“The legion had nothing to do with it. Lucifer refused to engage me directly. He yielded, instead. I am not afraid to face him again.”</p>
<p>“He may be much more bitter over his choice to yield so many millennia later,” urged Remiel.</p>
<p>“Regardless, I will go, and then we will see about your experiment, Charlotte Richards,” Michael said, already up and out of his chair, walking towards the door.</p>
<p>“Fair enough. I'll look forward to your report. And Michael, if you please, give Lucifer my sincerest regards.”</p>
<p>Michael nodded once and walked out.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>God may have been able to incapacitate her the once, handing her off to Amenadiel to drag her down to Hell, but apparently there was nothing he could do to keep her out of the Gates anymore. She didn't even need to open them, she just floated through the bars. Ironic that she had worked so hard to convince Lucifer to help her light the celestial blade to cut through them, when all she would have needed to do was allow herself enough time to heal and then soar upwards on her own.</p>
<p>No matter. It was the work of her Lightbringer at his best. An idea both bold and wise, and in the time she spent in her new universe, her desire for revenge had evaporated, though, she would always be pleased for any time to visit with her children.</p>
<p>Goddess approached the fields of columbine and tansy that Eve had crossed earlier, changing them to Queen Anne's Lace with a wave of her hand. She paused a moment to consider purple Hyacinths as well, but refrained.</p>
<p>
  <em>No need going overboard.</em>
</p>
<p>In the blink of an eye her essence dissipated and reconvened near the door of her husband's study. The little irritant was still inside, rewatching a possibility that apparently pleased her more than others. It had nothing to do with Lucifer, though, so Goddess wasn't privy to the details. Then Eve emerged.</p>
<p>“Charlotte!”</p>
<p>“Not quite.”</p>
<p>Eve's eyes grew wide as she stared and then finally comprehended.</p>
<p>“I wasn't disturbing anything inside,” she said, backing up a bit. “Just, you know, having a look around.”</p>
<p>Goddess just stood there, looking very tall and rather amused.</p>
<p>“Aren't you … I don't know … going to threaten me or something?”</p>
<p>“Oh, I don't need to do to you what I did to Lucifer's little doctor to find out the truth, anymore. All I need to do is wait for the future to shift to the present, and I'll know exactly what you've done, <em>Second Wife</em>.”</p>
<p>“Back in the Garden, Lucifer said only Yahweh was the all-seeing.”</p>
<p>“And so he is, but I'm sure you'd agree a mother's point of view can still be quite … comprehensive.”</p>
<p>Eve swallowed reflexively.</p>
<p>“Consider carefully, Eve. There's always someone watching.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Back in her office, Charlotte gathered one of her felines and settled down on her sofa.</p>
<p>
  <em>So, just to review … you created God … and enabled him to shape men in his image. What were you thinking?! If I had a dollar for every man that tried to discourage, silence or cow me, I might not have become a lawyer at all. I might have opened a cat sanctuary and never gone to Hell in the first place. And even if you say you care nothing for humans, just think about where you may have ended up if my corpse weren't available. In some graying, diabetic virginal nun from Tacoma who had just expired because her orthopedic shoes were too tight and caused her to trip down three flights of stairs at the convent. If you thought stepping into my life was Hell on Earth, just imagine how it would have been if Lucifer set you to praying to your husband every day?!</em>
</p>
<p>“That <em>would </em>be just the kind of thing Lucifer would think up.”</p>
<p>Charlotte nearly tumbled off the couch, and the cat jumped right up onto the desk where another Charlotte had her ankles crossed.</p>
<p>“Goddess?”</p>
<p>“You called?” she asked with a wink.</p>
<p>“So you heard all that?”</p>
<p>“Why is it you humans complain bitterly when we don't answer your prayers, but you act shocked when we smite you for your insolence?”</p>
<p>“So smiting is a thing … even though cherubs aren't?”</p>
<p>“'Fraid so.”</p>
<p>“Well if you're going to, please get it over with.”</p>
<p>“No, you're right,” Goddess sighed. “I kind of owe you. Not so much for the male of the species part … after all, I'm <em>pretty</em> certain you must have enjoyed Dan after I primed him for action with your rather well-designed flesh sack. But I know I screwed things up with your kids.”</p>
<p>“It <em>was</em> rough for a while when I returned … I have to hope it will all work out one day. They'll come to understand.”</p>
<p>“They will. Meanwhile, I gather you've met some of mine.”</p>
<p>“The Council, yes. I was surprised to learn that Lucifer had a twin.”</p>
<p>Goddess frowned. “Well, he wasn't supposed to have had one.”</p>
<p>“I beg your pardon?''</p>
<p>“Though human sex is a delightful process, it really does leave an awful lot up to chance if your goal is to produce quality offspring. When my husband and I procreated, we were quite a bit more meticulous about the results. Need an Angel of Death? Make an Azrael.”</p>
<p>“How exactly does that work for celestial beings?”</p>
<p>“Much as I imagine it would for you humans if you were building just about anything else. It's fascinating how little <em>thought</em> you put into the creation of something you say you hold so dear. For us, we consider what we want in the end and we put those considerations in from the beginning.</p>
<p>“I wanted my Lightbringer to be everything that my husband wasn't: someone who could live in the moment and make it last forever, someone full of charm and flair, lighthearted, passionate, challenging, solicitous of my desires, an alluring speaker, infinitely creative, full of dedication for what he loved.”</p>
<p>“That certainly sounds like Lucifer. What did God want for him?”</p>
<p>“I suppose in a way … the <em>same</em>. He wanted a child that had everything he thought I was lacking. A skilled punisher rather than someone who just lashed out when irritated, someone who would do great works with purpose and not just for amusement, had the discipline and power to sculpt the universe according to a Plan rather than just letting it unfold organically. Even back then, I believe somewhere in the far reaches of his mind, he was already envisioning humans, and he wanted this child to somehow form a bridge to them.”</p>
<p>“And that was a problem, somehow?”</p>
<p>“I think in the end, the decisive factor may have been that my husband was so young and inexperienced. I knew the drill, how the universe was and would proceed. I wanted to build something much more intimate for a change: a family. And because I'm immortal, I imagined that family enduring forever.”</p>
<p>“But it can't be the same even if it's long-lived. Children must grow. The alternative is much worse.”</p>
<p>“Well, you humans would know that better than I. But apparently God realized it too. He supposed he needed an inheritor. And I think that was the wedge that cleaved our creation in two. One being with all that we both wanted would either be insanely schizophrenic or so powerful he would defeat us both. And so, instead we each received a son that was a bit of both of our desires, but neither exactly what we had hoped.”</p>
<p>Charlotte ached when she heard that. Were both boys shaped by nothing but parental disappointment from the first day of their existence?</p>
<p>“Doesn't mean I don't love them both, of course. And I know you humans don't think highly of parents playing favorites, but those two … well, they were without question the most interesting of all our children to watch. All the siblings were jealous of each other from time to time, and certain pairs or trios very close. But those two! So talented, so devoted to one another, and also so fully capable of tearing each other's wings off when they quarreled.”</p>
<p>“I've often wondered how strange it must be for identical twins to observe one another. To see yourself doing things, both the things that you would likely choose, but also those you wouldn't, like some strange experiment in alternate realities. … Of course, I'm living that experience right now. Why <em>did</em> you choose my form?”</p>
<p>“Simplicity, in a word. It's also the one body with which I'm most recently familiar because I was in it … <em>rather than it being in me. … </em>I'm referring to Daniel, of course.<em>”</em></p>
<p>“Yes, I got that. Also seeing the familial resemblance to Lucifer.”</p>
<p>Goddess just smirked and wiggled her eyebrows.</p>
<p>“So these flatscreens you've all been watching so assiduously lately … they would allow you to watch Daniel as well?”</p>
<p>“Because I knew him, yes.”</p>
<p>“Let's take a peek.”</p>
<p>“I suppose we could. I actually haven't had the chance to check in on him in at least a few weeks. There's been an energetic political movement going on in Heaven.”</p>
<p>“I am aware of your efforts with respect to Lucifer. You might say I've been watching my own version of a flatscreen back in my new universe, and I'm very curious where it will all lead.”</p>
<p>Charlotte turned on the screen with her remote. Both Goddess and Charlotte were initially confused by what they saw as the camera began to zoom in.</p>
<p>“Are you sure you've got it on the right station?”</p>
<p>“Of course I'm sure. His name is right there on the bottom of the screen.”</p>
<p>“What's all that plastic nonsense? It looks like the hospital room where we were when Lucifer's little Detective was poisoned.”</p>
<p>“It is. It's an ICU unit.”</p>
<p>Goddess could tell just from Charlotte's tone the gravity of the situation. “Was he shot on duty?”</p>
<p>“No, I don't think so. I don't see any bandages, but he's on a ventilator. It means he can't breathe on his own.”</p>
<p>“Not good.”</p>
<p>“Stating the obvious. Can you go down there and help him?”</p>
<p>“I'm not certain I'd have enough healing capabilities in this form. Most of me is still in my new home.”</p>
<p>But a second later, it no longer mattered. A sharp, electronic tone rang out, signaling the end of Dan's last heartbeat. Both Goddess and Charlotte watched helplessly as it appeared someone in the shadows to the left of Dan, let go of his hand. Then staff rushed into the room with rolling crash carts, but after several minutes, they were forced to admit defeat. Charlotte couldn't take her eyes from the flatscreen, which had gone black, and she felt a spasm of grief rip through her chest.</p>
<p>“Charlotte, pull yourself together. He should be here any moment now. You can meet him at the Gates.”</p>
<p>“Yes. Right. We need to go.”</p>
<p>And they did. They waited for nearly an hour, and didn't recognize him among the throngs of new arrivals. In a fit of impatience, Goddess even grabbed the clipboard out of Ismordiel's hand to make sure Dan hadn't slipped into Heaven before they reached the gates.</p>
<p>“It's not on here.”</p>
<p>“Izzy, were there any first class arrivals? Did Amenadiel bring anyone to Heaven personally in the last hour.”</p>
<p>“No, Charlotte Richards. I'm sorry.”</p>
<p>“That can only mean one thing then,” said Charlotte.</p>
<p>Goddess nodded sadly in sympathy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Unbearable Weightiness of His Being</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When he found himself a few rungs from Los Angeles, not far from Chloe Decker's beach house, in fact, Abel let out a relieved sigh. It had been an arduous climb, and he reflected on how surprisingly quickly his mother had shimmied up ahead of him toward Heaven. He made to step off with one foot, and he was about to set his sole down on terra firma, when it began to disappear before his eyes. Quickly, he pulled it back onto the rung, and reached out a hand. First the fingers and then his palm began to fade.</p><p>“Damn, but we didn't consider that souls couldn't re-enter the Earthly plane on their own.” He braced himself for the long climb back down, too afraid to attempt stepping over to the slide and losing contact with his tether to Hell and – seemingly – his existence.</p><p>The Archangel Michael perched on a large rock along Venice Beach. If he had had his wings out, he would have looked like a gargoyle in a Thinker pose, frowning toward the back deck of Chloe's house. Something was disturbing the plane thereabouts, but the sun's glare off the sand was making it difficult to focus. He hopped down from the boulder and walked toward the anomaly, realizing as he came closer that it was a ladder traversing the three planes. It was barely visible to <em>his</em> eyes, and he suspected the humans in the area must be oblivious to it.</p><p>
  <em>Of course, most of them were oblivious to the fact that his twin was the Devil as well, despite his telling them repeatedly, so, go figure.</em>
</p><p>But clearly the movement he had seen was someone on the way up, and yet the demon had decided to head back down. Or had it been his brother <em>actually </em>checking up on the Detective? If that were the case, he needed to know and convince him not to do it again. With one last look around to check for prying eyes, Michael unfurled his dark gray wings and followed the ladder below. He hid them immediately as he touched down on the ashy ground. If necessary he could very likely fool a demon as long as he or she hadn't spotted the feathery appendages first. After walking a bit, he soon spied Abel conversing with Cain and Lilith on the other side of the river.</p><p>“I don't like it,” groused Cain. “Belphgor's been gone too long and now someone's going to have to get word to him that we also need him to pick up the vial in the penthouse as well as retrieving all the evidence proving my conniving, two-bit PA sent a tip to the Vatican that the Devil was alive and well in LA. He should have been back with that at least a week ago!”</p><p>If somehow it got back to Lucifer that he, Cain, were in any way, shape or form responsible for Hell-loop Chloe or the real one thinking she needed to poison the Poison of God, well, Cain had no doubt that Lucifer would be more than eager to pull out all the stops. As in, <em>Hell-o murderer! Let's let the sheer, unadulterated Spanish Inquisitional-Level Torture begin. Should we just throw you bodily into the wood chipper or saw you into smaller sections first this time? </em>He already knew what that felt like, and didn't need an encore.</p><p>“And furthermore, I hate the fact that Kinley's body is going to be anywhere near LA. If Chloe sees him, who knows what could go wrong?!”</p><p>“Belphgor will be fine with the files. Just be patient. Charon can handle the vial separately. He's been up to Earth loads of times,” said Lilith.</p><p>“That was thousands of years ago.”</p><p>“It won't be a problem. Most of my demons have kept up with the times. They study the modern loops and their details.”</p><p>“Well it's not like we have a choice now. We'll just have to watch closely for a fresh one to drop in the area.”</p><p>“Not a problem. With the new plague they're dying right and left.”</p><p>“Are we sure we can count on Kinley to cooperate?” asked Abel.</p><p>“Of course,” reassured Cain. “He's completely onboard, because this is exactly what he's always wanted – to be the world's next savior. God's right hand man, ensuring the Devil stays in Hell. If Lucifer ever checks on him, all he has to do it mutter one little line over and over.”</p><p>“When the Devil walks the Earth and finds his first love, Evil shall be released,” quoted Lilith. “That could mean dozens of things. Allows us plenty of future interpretation if Lucifer grows suspicious. It's perfect.”</p><p>“Won't Kinley wonder why he's not in Heaven?”</p><p>“All in good time, Second Son of Eve,” reassured Lilith. “We'll put your brother's script-writing skills to good use, should we need to. Not all Hell loops are fire and brimstone, after all.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Chloe's closure rate was dropping, though probably not only because she didn't have her favorite partner anymore. Maze was doing yeoman's <em>(yeowoman's? Yeodemon's?) </em>work as her backup, not always officially but still picking up the slack, particularly when Dan wasn't available. It was more than likely because her case pile had grown exponentially since the covid19 pandemic exploded and her time had been divided between detectiving and speaking at sit downs and panel discussions (and eventually Zoom meetings) with other law enforcement officers to educate them about what she'd witnessed on her trip to Europe.</p><p>Ella, whose own brothers were no strangers to jail, turned out to be a font of statistics and studies about the importance of family visits, and how they were becoming more and more difficult at some U.S. prisons due to budget cutbacks. She even helped collate all the reports and assemble the binders that were steadily becoming Chloe's new Gideon Bible. She left them on officers' desks, she gave them to conference attendees and she even delivered them to shelters and youth centers to remind families that they, too, had an important role to play if they wanted to help reform the system.</p><p>When she came back to the beach house at night, she often found she was too tired to eat yet too wound up to sleep. Trixie was reading on her own now. She'd started exploring more tween and teen novels these days, and Chloe suspected her daughter didn't want her editing out any of the four-letter words or dating and sex stuff. Instead, as soon as the kitchen was wiped down and the lights turned off, the Detective headed upstairs to the shower and just tried to wash away the stress for a few hours until she had to rise the next morning and start all over again.</p><p>
  <em>Lucifer, I know you're still running shy, and I want you to take whatever time you need to recover, but it's been awhile now. You pop by every once in a blue moon to cheer me up, or swoop down out of nowhere to save me from the bad guys, but then, you know … you just disappear again. I could really use an actual conversation. Something that lasts longer than two minutes.</em>
</p><p>Chloe couldn't really figure out why – maybe it was because of his terse visits, maybe it was all the media attention (<em>Naturally</em>, the reporters always had to mention her evolution from Hot Tub High School star to cop to justice reformer before they got to the important questions.), but she was starting to feel like someone was always watching her, and about the only peace she had was her me-time in the bathroom. She supposed that's why she starting making a regular practice of praying to the Devil, then.</p><p>-0-</p><p>
  <em>I could really use an actual conversation. Something that lasts longer than two minutes.</em>
</p><p>Lucifer began to stir as he lay on his bed in the basement penthouse ever since Lilith and her demons had moved him from his sofa many months earlier to endure Cain's magnum opus in comfort.</p><p>“But Detective, I <em>always </em>last longer,” he mumbled, but the demons nearest could still hear him clearly. “I'm not some two-pump chump.”</p><p>“He must be out of the loop by now. Probably just a bit of dreaming before he finally wakes. Mother's 'mood' spells can really do a number.”</p><p>Perhaps he was dreaming of a variant of the loop, one in which he and Chloe Decker had one first and final passionate consummation before he flew off to Hell to protect her for eternity. A number of the demons had suggested that to Cain, but the manham was so full of himself there was no room left in that square-jawed head of his for anyone else's suggestions. Or maybe he was just jealous.</p><p>“Dromos, Squee,” directed Lilith. “You two get out of here, and no showing your faces until I call for you in a few days. Hide out in the distant deserts until then.”</p><p>“Yes, Mother,” they agreed and left the penthouse, and Lilith quickly followed.</p><p>Lucifer turned onto his side in a cocoon of pale, golden, too-shiny-to-be actual-silk, polyester satin sheets. Lilith had argued forcefully that their Lord would <em>never </em>have made his bed with such second-rate goods, but Cain argued it was yet another layer of verisimilitude. His mother had chosen them for their practicality in the Hell loop. “<em>For Hell's sake Lucifer, when you're boning the entire cast of Cirque du Soleil, you're not only going to need to change the linens hourly but wash them in hot, and do you know how tough that is on genuine silk?!”</em> Proof was in the pudding (<em>No, not the euphemistic kind!</em>), of course, because he'd obviously fallen for the verisimilitude, otherwise his cell wouldn't have recreated them. Their lord raised one arm up over his head and stretched, yawned, opened his eyes and started looking around in puzzlement.</p><p>“How am I here?” he asked one of the demons. The last thing he clearly remembered was sitting on his throne, crossing his legs, surveilling the kingdom and settling in for an extremely long stay.</p><p>“You were up on the throne for two weeks, my Lord. You fell asleep, so we climbed up and carried you down to allow you a more comfortable rest.”</p><p>“Would my Lord like some breakfast?” asked another bringing a tray of freshly sliced nostoc.</p><p>“No thank you, Mastema. I believe I'd prefer to bathe.”</p><p>“Naamah has already filled the tub. We will leave you to your privacy.”</p><p>Lucifer nodded and they departed. When he walked into his ensuite he found himself staring in the mirror. Had it really only been a few weeks since the Mayan? Since that night on the balcony of his actual penthouse? Or had he just been sitting on an overlook below the Griffith Observatory flirting with an action star who was considering a career change? Chloe Decker was the Weaponizer. But no that couldn't be correct. The Weaponizer was Kimo VanZandt, who lost all his money caring for an albino Bengal tiger. But what about those two jokesters from the Hotel Angelette? One of them had played a prank on the other with a tiger as well. Had it been the Weaponizer's furry baby? Did the urchin talk Chloe into adopting a Tiger as well? Perhaps a small one?</p><p>He stepped into the tub and soaked into the steaming water piped directly from the underground thermals. It always smelled a touch of sulfur, but not nearly as odorous as all the novels made out. Really no worse than the water in Baden-Baden or Montecatini. It made him think of the touch-pool that Eve had taken him to at the Los Angeles Aquarium. There had been a ray in the water that kept tipping its body over sideways and waving at them, begging for attention and a light scritch on the head. He wanted to tell the Detective about it the very next day. It was remarkable, like an adorable water puppy, but instead he'd launched into a tale of his and Eve's sexual exploits and obviously upset the Detective, even though she'd reassured him months earlier that of course he should feel free to share.</p><p>
  <em>I should have known better.</em>
</p><p>It echoed in his head. He'd said it to Maze, too, in Dr. Linda's office after she learned of his planned trip back to Heaven to lock Mother and Father in together. She had felt betrayed that he hadn't shared the plan. He had a feeling she might feel betrayed now, too. He hadn't asked her if she wanted to return to Hell this time. She was growing and thriving on Earth now, though. She was practically a godmother (<em>Take that, Dad!</em>) to his nephew. She <em>should</em> stay there where she'd begun to plant roots. And yet ... he probably still should have allowed her to choose. Or at least said goodbye.</p><p>The King of Hell shook himself out of his thoughts and began soaping up in earnest. Honestly, he felt like he hadn't had a good wash in years, though he could clearly remember his last shower in the penthouse before Chloe arrived. Still ... none of that mattered now. The demons didn't just need to be contained. It was time for some punishment. After he'd toweled off, coiffed his hair and shaved, he donned a fresh suit and stalked toward Lilith's tent.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Daniel Espinoza had committed a boatload of dishonest acts that might ferry him across the Styx. Take your pick – Palmetto, checking that gun out of evidence for Malcolm, Perry Smith's death – any of these could easily have done the trick, and yet as he was prone in a hospital bed, just the better side of conscious as doctors debated his need for a ventilator, all he could keep asking himself was, “Why the fuck couldn't I have managed to put on that mask?”</p><p>It was a trendy bar in Westwood and since UCLA had gone online March 11, a ton of students were out drinking that afternoon. The governor hadn't ordered bars to close until March 14. He received a tip that one of the bartenders might have information about an active case, and naturally he went in to question him. All those co-eds breathing all over each other and shouting over the music were all it took. The word on masks was conflicted at the time, but Dan knew better. His abuela was a nurse, and she'd been telling him for years that those people in Asia knew what they were doing wearing masks everywhere in public when it came to SARS or flu outbreaks. What was even more insane? He had had his tool bag in the trunk from a weekend project with Trixie, and there was an extra N95 mask in it from when he'd been doing some sanding.</p><p>He'd had a heart-stopping close call years back when he'd learned Malcolm had taken Trixie, but thanks to Lucifer, she'd survived. He didn't think there was a chance his ex-wife's oddball consultant could pull a reverse trick and save his little girl from growing up fatherless this time. Dan wasn't that old, and he looked like he was in great shape, but the puddings had brought him to borderline diabetes and there was a history of heart disease on his father's side. He probably should have cut back on the bacon cheeseburgers, too. Another 24 hours later, and none of it mattered anymore.</p><p>-0-</p><p>“Lilith! Darling!” greeted Lucifer, pushing the flap of her tent aside so he could enter. The coverings were constructed with meticulously pieced and sewn fish hides from a species that had gone extinct during his lengthy vacation on Earth.</p><p>“Lucifer! Welcome home! It's been <em>ages</em> since you've made a visit.”</p><p>“True, and some of your more disobedient children felt the need to come topside to remind me.”</p><p>“But my Lord, surely you understand Dromos was only there to answer your cry for help.”</p><p>“Possession. Is. Forbidden!” roared the King of Hell, his voice reverberating throughout the edge of the forest.</p><p>“Of course it is. We all know that. But the circumstances were <em>exceptional</em> … and well, surely Dromos and Squee deserve a <em>bit </em>of consideration. They're not the--”</p><p>“Brightest bulbs in the Hellfire Chandelier? Yes, I get it. And I was going to let it slide for just that reason when it was just the two, but then they murdered another 50 humans and brought the others after I'd explicitly sent the first two home.”</p><p>“Sent them home to announce your abdication and abandonment!”</p><p>“That is <em>my</em> decision to make and no demon's to contest!”</p><p>“Yes, of course, my Lord.”</p><p>“Which brings me to my next point. The guilty will be hunted down and examples made of them. Naturally, Hell will require replacements, so time to fire up the old oven, Mother of Demons.”</p><p>“No,” she answered, and he raised an eyebrow at her quiet defiance. “I will not … but in addition … I cannot.”</p><p>“Explain yourself.”</p><p>“Hell has exceeded its natural capacity to support life. It is egregiously overcrowded. Your Father gave me the gift to selectively and advantageously breed, and the current state of our plane is anything but advantageous. Since you and your Mother left, we have been slowly starving. The cells are finally beginning to malfunction now that they've grown so numerous. They've sucked all the minerals out of the ground.”</p><p>Although Lilith had begun calmly, her voice and anger were clearly rising as she continued.</p><p>“And even though your recent return has allowed us a brief reprieve – a few simple species to renew themselves – there are far too many souls arriving daily, chock full of <em>greedy</em> demands for endless punishment scenarios. My children can barely contend with it any longer.”</p><p>“I – I didn't realize the situation was so grave.”</p><p>“Really? Because I'm <em>pretty</em> sure Dromos tried to tell you.”</p><p>“He may have indicated life was less that ideal, but it's Hell, Lilith.”</p><p>“Our world <em>turned</em> to Hell thanks to your epic misery after the Harrowing, and my previous children killed themselves from depression or insanity. So then you demanded hard-hearted demons – '<em>no whinging snivelers who won't be able to hack it in the cells.'</em> Did you expect exacting communicators when you asked for torturers because Daddy was clearly sending a message that was all we were fit for?”</p><p>“So what you're saying is that all of this is <em>my</em> fault?!”</p><p>“When the Kingdom crumbles who does one look to?”</p><p>“Right,” he sighed, suddenly deflated. “Well you have me now, but just let me be clear. Possession will <em>not </em>be tolerated, even if it appears to be the only means to escape starvation. How <em>else</em> can we attack this problem?”</p><p>“Have a seat,” she said, pointing to a pile of cushions around the firepit. “I have ideas.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Dan found himself suddenly conscious on one side of a river. A small boat with oars but no boatman was secured to a rock on the shore with a long length of looping rope, however, the operator seemed to have left a clipboard with a daily docket sitting on the bench. Dan leaned over to take a peek.</p><p>USA West Coast Arrivals:</p><p>Daniel Espinoza, Los Angeles; Bill Blumley, Bakersfield; Cecile Abbott, Seattle …</p><p>Well, at least he'd landed in the correct place. Just, where was he, and what was he supposed to do now?</p><p>-0-</p><p>There is a brief phrase in the not widely accepted Book of Enoch that reads, “Michael, one of the holy angels, to wit, he that is set over the best part of mankind and over chaos.” The police and military recognize him as their patron; to many others, he is the leader of God's army who cast the Devil out of Heaven; for others still, he makes a fetching decoration atop Christmas trees, but Michael knows these awkward though accurately translated words from Enoch describe his purpose for they are precisely what his Father whispered in his ear shortly after the twins' creation. He was to guard humanity, of course, and when chaos comes at the End of Days, it would be up to him to act. What precisely <em>act</em> meant, God didn't specify. Father was like that. A laconic being even back when he did speak.</p><p>Michael spent his day in Hell observing Abel, then looked in on Lucifer as he woke, obviously from some nefarious ruse created by Lilith and the abomination that was Cain. And while he certainly didn't like the idea of a demon hoodwinking a celestial, if it kept the Devil in Hell where he both belonged and had ultimately chosen to be, well, the ends justified the means. Yet, when he followed his twin to the Mother of All Demons' tent, he realized they might already be on the cusp of what he joked about at the Council meeting. The End of Days may indeed be at hand. Michael certainly couldn't allow demons to swarm the Earth, and though he believed Lucifer would do his best to prevent it if only just to protect Chloe, he also wondered if it were already too late. If it were inevitable.</p><p>He decided to return to Heaven without addressing the issue of the visitors. It was not a good time. Lucifer needed to stay focused on what was critical, and Michael needed to prepare if indeed the end were nigh. Just as Lucifer had once refused to kill him, so he didn't believe he could kill his brother, but he had no issue destroying every last one of the damned if necessary to act against chaos.</p><p>-0-</p><p>When Charon the Boatman saw the name and location on his docket, he knew he found the perfect host. The body was well known to the staff at Lux and a sometimes friend to Lucifer. It wouldn't be the least bit surprising if he were seen headed up to his penthouse. And if he were challenged, he was also an officer of the law who could flash his badge (even if it was a fake one) when necessary. Charon lay down in his tent, pulled the covers over his head as he curled on his side and let his life force float toward the empty vessel that once had been Daniel Espinoza. Luckily, it was already in a freezer truck outside the hospital, the morgue already bursting well beyond capacity. An armed guard stood watch outside the door, and Charon made quick work of him – not killing him as there was no reason, but he borrowed his clothes. Several minutes later, he was calling up an Uber with the guard's phone as well, and on his way to Lucifer's actual penthouse.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Mery, Father Frank and two Charlottes sat in the Counselor's office, caressing felines and waiting for a word from Michael. Goddess was growing concerned, as she'd received no omniscience reports of a meeting with Lucifer, but she could hear Michael touching down some ways away. Each of her children's wings had a slightly different sound.</p><p>“We should go meet him,” said the Goddess. “Michael's not far.”</p><p>They found him poking around, half-hidden in some bushes not too far from the Gates. When the four approached, he did a doubletake.</p><p>“How was your visit with your twin?” asked one of the women.</p><p>He stared at her several seconds, wondering if Charlotte, too, were a twin, but then he understood. Michael saw the light of her eyes, and in another moment he didn't know how he could not have noticed it from the first – her Light glowed everywhere.</p><p>“How is this possible, Mother?”</p><p>“I am needed, and I came. Turns out the membranes between universes are not as thick as you might expect. But these three souls need to know of your visit. How did it go?”</p><p>“Lucifer has been occupied with multiple crises. It is not an auspicious time for visits.”</p><p>“Michael,” said Charlotte. “That's not an answer my clients are going to like.”</p><p>“I did not want to disappoint the protesters, but I have urgent business now. Direct orders from Father. I must prepare,” he said and immediately took flight before they could argue or his mother embrace him. He didn't think he could keep all he had discovered hidden from her if he had to stand within the circle of her Light even a moment longer.</p><p>“He never actually said that Lucifer refused,” noted Charlotte.</p><p>“A clever observation, Counselor,” agreed Goddess.</p><p>“You mentioned the pair have quite a lot in common. Do they both always tell the truth?”</p><p>“Once … when the children were very young, we were all gathered around the table for a family meal, and Lucifer told us a story.”</p><p>“Was that unusual?” asked Frank.</p><p>“What I mean is that he made up a story.”</p><p>“He lied?” asked Mery.</p><p>“No, he invented a fiction. It was not his intent to deceive but to amuse. To dare us to imagine by asking what if? God and I were speechless.”</p><p>“You never told them stories?”</p><p>“Stories didn't exist. He created the first right then and there in the words of a song. It was a revelation, a veritable revolution in thinking. But several of his siblings didn't see it that way. When they saw that God and I were truly awed, they grew jealous. They taunted him, dubbed him the King of Lies. It went on for ages, but in true Lucifer fashion he responded by spitefully and relentlessly telling the truth from then on. Try as they may, his siblings could never catch him in an untruth, while they were forced to confront many unpleasant realities about themselves.”</p><p>“And Michael?”</p><p>“Raphael and Azrael stayed on Lucifer's side. They were quite a bit younger and didn't understand the older children's jealousies. But Michael was the one who defended his twin, and he'd dish out the truth just as fiercely when the others attacked. He was brutal when it came to Amenadiel, in particular, and it went on for years until the Rebellion. … But at that point, Michael felt ripped in half, having to choose between Lucifer and his Father. He wouldn't smite his twin, but he couldn't support him, either.”</p><p>“If Michael is preparing to follow orders from God,” said Frank, “And he says there are crises in Hell, this could be epic – the straw that broke the loyal twin's back. Shouldn't we warn Lucifer?”</p><p>“Yes. And I need to get to Dan, too. Is there any way you can get us to Hell?” she asked looking at Goddess.</p><p>“I think I might be able to help,” came the voice of a woman approaching them from the direction that Michael had just fled.</p><p>“Ah, Mother of Cain. I gather you've considered your actions carefully.”</p><p>Eve walked toward the bushes, pulling a large pair of pruning shears from her tote bag, and began trimming back the branches that obscured the top of the slide.</p><p>“Is that … a massive game of Chutes and Ladders?” marveled Charlotte.</p><p>“Not quite a game,” answered Eve. “But a lot more fun than Falling.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Lilith watched Abel as he 'cared' for a herd of nostoc. She figured it was the right job for the lazy herdsman. He wasn't stupid, but he certainly enjoyed his leisure. Nostoc couldn't move on their own unless you counted the way they gradually oozed outward as they grew, and the only interaction required was when it came to slicing them up for a meal. He noticed the diminution of light at exactly the same moment she did, though.</p><p>“What happened?!” he asked.</p><p>“I hope I didn't overplay my hand and scare him away. Perhaps he just needed to step off the plane for additional provisions. Honestly, he has enough treasure he could import food for all of us for years, if necessary.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>He <em>did</em> grab provisions, though the two bags of Cool Ranch Puffs and a six-pack of organic wine juice boxes that Maze assumed were meant for kids' lunchboxes, were only an afterthought as he snuck out of the back door of Penelope's former beach house. It pleased him that Chloe had someplace of her own and not just a rental. It was one less thing to worry about. Now that he'd settled his unfinished business, he could surely hunker down in Hell for the next thousand years to protect his newborn nephew, Chloe, the Urchin, his dearest friends; in fact, the entire human race from his wandering demons by focusing on the infernal planar conditions and making them right again.</p><p>To begin, he brought cushions up to his throne. It would be a very long sit-in, and he was already suffering enough emotional tortures. Why add hemorrhoids to his stress? He'd ordered the demons to forge the strongest chains that Hell had ever produced. Links similar to what had been used for millennia outside the door of the Goddess' cell, but even thicker, reinforced with handfuls of his own feathers that had been dissolved into the molten metal. Screwed deep into the base of his own cell, heavy bolts secured the chains. These fetters then rose up high into the air, wrapping like vines about the spire that supported his throne and ended with shackles that were fitted into a hair- or rather feathershirt harness that he would wear about his chest. It was both a practical and symbolic reminder that he must not leave.</p><p>The demons had no problem climbing up to him for consultations as the forest canopy had risen to record heights and practically bowed at Lucifer's toes now, despite the fact that none of the fourth through ninth tier cells even functioned. One of the main things Lucifer did was assign battalions of demons to corral the loose souls who had begun wandering about the pathways and tripping over the roots of the trees, calling out madly and generally getting in everyone's way. Lest they fall or jump out of the higher cells, however, he had them tripled and quadrupled up hoping that by just having some company they might keep each other calmer.</p><p>He let out his own wings, and tried very hard to burn brighter, hoping that might speed evolution and food production along. Lilith had come to him and proposed he fund a grocery drop from Amazon.com, something she'd learned about from some of most recent arrivals who were casualties of the Earth's latest and most spectacular pandemic. One, which if he hadn't already sent his mother off safely to another universe, he'd be suspecting was a last ditch attempt on her part to garner Father's attention.</p><p>“Your idea has merit, Lilith, and I do not begrudge the expense. Indeed, I'd be happy to support half of LA's restaurants with takeout orders, but as I already stated, I cannot allow the demons to rise up to collect the boxes.”</p><p>And of course, he couldn't risk going himself and leaving the realm unattended. They'd just have to make it work with their own ecosystem.</p><p>Lucifer had also assembled some of his better thinkers to try to work on the problem of slowing the forest down. It just wouldn't stop growing, and he suspected it was the Earthly pandemic that was fueling that side effect as well. Hell was just as determined to contain the guilty souls as Lucifer was determined to contain the demons.</p><p>-0-</p><p>“I will go first,” said Mery. “I've been there before. If any demons are about, they might even recognize me from the good old days.”</p><p>“I believe I should go first,” added the Goddess. “I can light the way through the interplanal corridors and protect the rest of you if something up ahead requires smiting.”</p><p>Charlotte was at odds with the whole lot of them who had now been bickering over sliding order for the past ten minutes. She mounted the top few rungs of the ladder, set her bum down in position on the slide and pushed off. “Last one there's a lollygagger!”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Dan had carefully scouted the area where he had seemingly been dropped without explanation or memory, noting there was an open clearing full of camping tents, which for the moment he would avoid since he had no idea if the inhabitants would be welcoming or hostile. Instead, he eventually sat down on the ground beside the riverbank, facing in the direction of the forest of stone and watched what looked like numerous people periodically climbing up the large formations to reach the highest point in the center. From time to time he would see another person looking lost and peeking out of the edge of the rock columns, but as soon as eye contact was established, the soul would run back in the other direction.</p><p>He didn't think there was any possible way this could be Heaven, but it also wasn't even close to the horrors he'd expected of Hell. Charlotte had been certain she'd been there during her close brush with death the day she jumped off the pier, but she didn't really want to share all the details with him. He overheard her in her sleep, though, and understood those nightmares were something more than a mental response to a heavy workload or a rocky marriage. He remembered the twisting in his guts when he was helping Malcolm, and in his last minutes of consciousness he expected <em>that</em> sort of feeling would grow into his new normal.</p><p>“Ahhhhh!”</p><p>It did not sound like a scream of torture. Nor did the phewshshsh, phewshsh, phewshsh, phewshsh that followed. He turned and walked a bit away from the river, and found himself transfixed by a pile of legs and limbs, too many of which seemed to belong to Charlotte Richards.</p><p>“This is <em>really</em> not what I was expecting from perdition.”</p><p>Phewshsh. Yet another human hit the pileup, sending up a cloud of ash.</p><p>“Well, don't just stand there, Daniel … a little help?” said the Goddess.</p><p>“Yeah, sorry.”</p><p>When everyone was finally upright, Dan was still mostly motionless, eyeballs flicking back and forth between the two Charlottes.</p><p>“Is this some kind of payback for that time Maze showed up on our date and wanted a threesome?”</p><p>Charlotte actually couldn't help herself, “Well, you didn't exactly turn it down then, now did you?”</p><p>“I – I – I've got nothing,” he shrugged. “If this is my Hell, I suppose it could be worse, but who are they? Wait … I remember you,” said, gesturing toward Father Frank. “I saw you at the station. You were involved in one of Chloe and Lucifer's cases.”</p><p>“Indeed I was. Nice to meet you. Frank Lawrence,” he said, extending his hand.</p><p>“Daniel Espinoza.”</p><p>“And Dan, this Mery, High Priest of Osiris,” said Charlotte.</p><p>“You from LA, too?”</p><p>Mery only shook his head with a smile. He'd heard that line many times in Heaven from younger souls. He supposed it wasn't surprising that Lucifer had chosen to move there.</p><p>“Eve, an old friend of Lucifer's,” added Charlotte, “And my doppelganger is actually someone you've met before, but honestly, it's not an easy one to explain.”</p><p>Goddess stepped closer to Dan, looked down at him with a smile and gave him a long kiss on the mouth. In the moment that her Light flooded him, he saw the truth of everything.</p><p>“That is sooo messed up! … But at least a lot of things make sense now. So we're both in Hell?” he asked turning to the real Charlotte. “At least we can face it together.”</p><p>“It doesn't normally work that way, Dan, but a lot is changing. I actually made it to Heaven after Pierce shot me, and hopefully, we'll all be able to help you. We need to find Lucifer, though. And quickly.”</p><p>“Wait, so Lucifer really is …?”</p><p>“He never lies,” clarified Goddess.</p><p>“Yeah … and our last few exchanges before he disappeared … not so great. We were working together to get Pierce, but I was already blaming him for your death because he admitted he knew Pierce was the Sinnerman. He'd known for months.”</p><p>“I know, Dan,” Charlotte said, putting a hand out and placing it over the left side of his chest.</p><p>“And all water under the bridge now, Daniel. I doubt he'll even think twice about it. Come … we have a situation that needs attention. There's no time for sentimentality now.”</p><p>As Goddess lead them single file toward the high throne, each tried to explain some of what had been happening in Heaven and how they'd come to meet him in Hell. Dan explained that a new pandemic had been sweeping the globe, and though he didn't know at this point how long he'd been in the hospital, things were likely to get much worse on Earth before they got better.</p><p>“I don't understand it,” said Eve, bringing up the rear. “This journey is taking longer than the last time.”</p><p>“You were here before? I just saw you arrive.”</p><p>“I came down ahead of the others to see if it was even possible. I built the slide so I could visit my two sons. It wasn't that long ago, but there weren't any souls wandering around among the trees on my last trip.”</p><p>Both Eve and Charlotte refrained from dropping the bomb that one of those sons was Pierce, aka Cain from the Bible. Dan had really had quite a lot to have to adjust to already.</p><p>“So, are they just like me? New arrivals without a room?”</p><p>“I'm not sure. They might also be escapees. I believe the stone trees have grown and expanded,” answered Goddess. “I agree with you, Eve. The last time I was departing, I wasn't paying that much attention to the topography, but the columnar growth was not nearly as high.”</p><p>“What does that even mean?” asked Dan.</p><p>“It means that for some reason, the prison cells in Hell are growing,” answered Eve. “The last time, it took a few hours to walk to the center. This time it feels like we've been walking for days.”</p><p>“But Hell has a finite amount of space,” added Charlotte. “It's not a sustainable growth.”</p><p>“Come on, I think we're finally making progress.”</p><p>A few hundred more meters and they discovered a fortuitous lower outcropping, that would allow them to begin to ascend toward the throne. The climb was steep, but not unbearable. Father Frank made sure that Mery didn't get left behind as the Goddess, Charlotte and Dan forged ahead.</p><p>Meanwhile, back at the slide, thousands more souls from Heaven, angered by Michael's response, decided fair treatment for the damned could wait no longer. Initially there was a cry to storm out of the Gates of Heaven and Fall as necessary, but on their way they discovered Eve's slide, now no longer hidden in the bushes. Some of the younger ones quickly realized what it must be and started to toboggan down. The eldest members of their group then began to lead the way toward Lucifer's throne. They were puzzled, of course, that none of the old buildings remained, but his throne had always been at the center, even back in ancient times.</p><p>When Goddess, Dan and Charlotte had nearly reached the top, the first three paused to allow the others to catch up.</p><p>“I only think it right that you should go first, Mery,” said Charlotte. “It was your idea from the beginning.”</p><p>“Very well,” he said, grasping a last rocky branch and pulling himself up.</p><p>Although it had been many days, Lucifer still wasn't used to the idea of anyone approaching his throne from below, and a soul had never attempted to climb this high yet. He watched as the ancient one grasped an edge of rock and then someone gave him a boost from below, allowing him to crawl forward and then to stand. In turn, he offered his hand to another, and so on, until there were four.</p><p>“Mery? … Father Frank? … Charlotte? … And … <em>Mother</em>?!”</p><p>Mery could contain himself no longer, although it violated all royal protocols he launched himself at his favorite ruler and embraced him. “Oh Lucifer, it's been ages that we've been stuck in Heaven. We missed you so damn much!”</p><p>Lucifer, always a little stiff when it came to hugs, felt as though a strange wave of deja vu were sweeping over himself.</p><p>“What in Dad's name is going on?”</p><p>“Oh, it gets better, Son,” smiled Goddess, reaching her hand to Dan and pulling him up.</p><p>“Daniel? What happened … is Chloe? The Urchin? What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I don't know, dude. Apparently it's your kingdom. You tell me.”</p><p>“What I mean is <em>how</em> did you die and is the Detective alright?”</p><p>“There's a new virus spreading. A lot of people shake it off. Many don't even know they've been infected, but for those who do get sick, it's pretty rough. As far as I know, Chloe's fine. Trixie, too. The quarantine procedures at the hospital are pretty strict. They weren't even allowed to visit. We had to say goodbye over Facetime.”</p><p>“I'm sorry to hear that, Daniel. Rest assured I will do my best to keep you out of a cell. At the moment, it shouldn't even be that hard.”</p><p>“Yes Son, that's part of why we're here.”</p><p>But before she could continue, Lucifer noticed Eve standing just behind Daniel.</p><p>“<em>Eve</em>?”</p><p>“Hey Luce. Long time no see.”</p><p>“Did you die from this plague Daniel mentioned, too?”</p><p>“I …” she started, considering if there might be some way to protect Cain, but in the end, she couldn't lie. “No. I've been living up in Heaven with Adam for ages. You know we never could die because we'd already eaten from the Tree of Life, it was only the other one that was forbidden. It was exhausting though, so Yahweh eventually just brought us up to Heaven body and soul. I only came down with the others to visit my sons.”</p><p>“But … we were just living together on Earth … at least until we broke up … and then you showed up at the Mayan to help save my nephew.”</p><p>“Wait <em>what</em>?” asked Goddess.</p><p>“Yeah,” clarified Dan. “Linda and Amenadiel had a son. His name's Charlie … named after Charlotte. Cute kid.”</p><p>“<em><strong>Eve</strong></em>?” asked Lucifer, sounding angrier.</p><p>“Er ...”</p><p>Twelve eyes grew wide in terror as Lucifer leapt from his seat and unfurled his wings as though reacting to some silent alarm. These wings were not the luminous, feathery ones his Father had once gifted him, though. Instead, a pair of clawed and leathery, membranous monstrosities mantled behind his shoulders, as though reacting to some silent alarm. Eve was terrified, certain, he had somehow divined her role in Cain's deception. The others were forced to back up as much as they could on the rock canopy to accommodate Lucifer's full wingspan and the massive chains that he seemed quite oblivious to at the moment. With one great beat he sprung forth off the stone into the air, and all of Hell began to shake as the chains extended upward with him. The souls scrabbled for purchase wherever they could. Goddess lost her footing and tumbled several levels down. The ground heaved while the outcroppings of schist split and splintered in all directions. As Lucifer continued flapping his wings, the exertion transformed his eyes to glowing coals and his skin erupted in flame just before he disappeared from the plane like a shooting star.</p><p>And then everything all around them went wheeling and careening in every direction at once.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Dragon ...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Although he was aware of Eve's shout of terror when Ponyboy and his miscreant sidekick barged into the penthouse, he felt the Urchin's silent prayer for help down to the depths of his soul. There was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her. And though it was difficult and painful to admit in a way, her sway over him was even more potent than the desires or needs of his beloved. And no, he wasn't thinking of his girlfriend Eve when he used that word, but rather Chloe. He didn't even really know the moment he started loving her, but it had become apparent to him over the course of the past several months that he'd never stopped. Not even when she crushed him by admitting to her fear and short-lived collusion with Kinley. But the Urchin? The Urchin shone with a much younger version of Chloe's goodness and purity, her only tempering a bit of Maze's mischief.</p><p>So when she called the next time, though he was preparing himself for a self-imposed siege, he flew topside immediately. Lightly pushing against the door of her bedroom, he spied her sitting up, clutching Miss Alien to her chest, and wrinkling her brow in some sort of agony.</p><p>“What is it, Spawn?” he asked quietly, sitting on the bed beside her.</p><p>“Lucifer, I really, really, need a favor.”</p><p>“Tell me.”</p><p>“I need you to promise me if Daddy goes to Hell, you'll take care of him.”<br/>
“Why would you assume Daniel is going to Hell?” Lucifer knew of several reasons why he might, but he was intrigued by what the child might know.</p><p>“Sometimes Daddy talks to himself. I'll be in the next room, but I hear him say, 'I'm really going to go to Hell for this.'”</p><p>“Probably nothing to worry about, Urchin. Humans often speak figuratively. But … just for the sake of discussion … take care of him how?</p><p>“Ever since she went to Europe, Mommy's been working on a special side project ...”</p><p>
  <em>Indeed, Offspring. A most unpleasant one for me.</em>
</p><p>“... trying to make sure that when the bad guys go to jail, they can get better, and not turn into even worse bad guys.”</p><p>“<em>Really</em>?”</p><p>“And so I need you to promise if Daddy goes to Hell, you'll visit him everyday, and not just visit him like when it's Maze's job to torture people, but visit him like you're his family. You know … to encourage him.”</p><p>
  <em>Was it actually possible she knew of Hell's earlier incarnation?</em>
</p><p>“And in exchange … I'll do you a favor back. Deal?”</p><p>“But you haven't yet heard what I'll ask?</p><p>“I know it will probably be something like I need to watch over Mommy between your visits, because you're really busy or something like that … I trust you, Lucifer.”</p><p>“You're … you're right, Child. I will promise you that if your father comes to Hell, I'll do everything I can to attend to him. However, in exchange, you must promise me this: you cannot call on me again for anything frivolous – not even for something a little trying or painful. You must be brave on your own and watch over your mother and be patient with her. She's likely to be sad in the coming days without me working at her side. But while I'm in Hell, you can be certain I'm protecting you both. Protecting you from the worst of the worst that might try to escape and create havoc on Earth. This job will require my constant presence.”</p><p>“But what if something really, really, <em>really </em>horrible happens again? Like with Malcolm?”</p><p>“That is the <em>only </em>exception. … Beatrice Decker Espinoza,” he said emphasizing the seriousness of the matter, “if your life or your mother's life is truly in danger, not only may you call, but you <em>must </em>call on me then. … Deal?”</p><p>“Deal,” replied Trixie with equal solemnity. “.... But before you leave Lucifer, would you tell me a story? A really good one? … One so good I'll remember it for years in case I don't see you back on Earth?”</p><p>Lucifer sighed. Chloe's offspring wasn't making his permanent departure easy, but nonetheless he spun her the most fantastic tale of old time crime bosses, intrepid and dashing detectives, a sultry siren of a songstress and the eternal battle for justice over evil, all with a bit of his signature Golden Age of Hollywood flair. He only departed hours later when she had finally succumbed to slumber.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Breaking into Kinley's office was even harder than fitting into his body. Belphgor was a large demon. As a child, Lilith praised him for his healthy appetite, and though the recent years of famine had been tough, he'd padded his flesh well for millennia before that. It wasn't that the lock was difficult, it was the navigation to avoid other humans that was challenging. Apparently this one's death had made quite the impact on the Church Cardinals. In the end, he broke through a small stained glass clerestory window and squeezed – with immense effort – through. Had he been wearing his own skin, it would have been impossible. After flipping himself down by balancing one hand on the fireplace mantle, though, he finally began to rummage through files and drawers in search of incriminating files that could connect all this unsavory exorcism nonsense back to Cain. But then he'd noticed a tiny lump of a thing on Kinley's desk. Wrapped in fine silver and decorated with royal blue ink, it proclaimed itself a Bacio, one perfect little Italian kiss. He sniffed at it and his host's newly-reanimated stomach grumbled violently. Carefully peeling off the foil, he popped the delicacy into his mouth, and let his eyeballs roll back until his lids closed with delight.</p><p>
  <em>Oh Lord Lucifer, what great feasts have you been keeping from us, your ever loyal demons?</em>
</p><p>-0-</p><p>When you're the daughter of a cop, you know that any morning as you're waving goodbye to your dad and you rush to catch the school bus, it could be the last day you see him. Chloe Decker knew this better than many. When she married a cop, she accepted that any phone call, any wave over into the Lieutenant's office could bring the announcement that her marriage had just ended with a bullet. When she brought her baby girl into the world, she knew then too, that there could be a horrible phone call or even two in little Beatrice's future. It wouldn't just be limited to her father.</p><p>So, it wasn't really a shock when the hospital called. Dan had been under ventilation for 20 days, kept artificially subdued so he could endure the harsh effects of the machinery. Despite all her experiences with death and mental preparations, she was still ravaged by this loss. Dan was the one person who had really supported her in her quest to make Detective. She hated that he lied to her about Palmetto, but she was still damn thankful that he'd hit Malcolm with that bullet, or she would have been the one to die years ago. She admired the patience he always showed his parents no matter how antiquated their opinions. She'd never been able to be half as civil with Penelope on so many occasions, and her mother was actually pretty open minded. Dan and Chloe were divorced, they'd both moved on – or at least attempted to – and yet she still felt her marriage and another piece of her life had been torn away. Perhaps because more recently, they'd become better friends.</p><p>Back when her father died, the media had hounded her on the day of the funeral, but she still had plenty of private time to process afterward. Now while millions of Americans were home and whining every second through Instagram and Twitter about how bored they were during the quarantine, time was a luxury of which she was deprived. She was an essential worker, of course. Paperwork might be done from home, but interviews and examinations of evidence and crime scenes certainly could not be. She had Maze to rely on at times, but she needed to make sure Trixie was doing her online schoolwork and thankfully Linda offered to take her a few days a week. Chloe had thought some sessions for Trixie to deal with her grief would be worthwhile, but Linda also spent time going over school assignments with her and teaching Trixie how to feed and take care of Charlie. Chloe's efforts to encourage prison visits and design rehabilitation programs were put on hold at every turn. The country was in crisis mode, no one could visit anyone, unemployment was up, the economy in shambles and no one was going to shell out funding for specialized pilot programs. Masks were being reserved for healthcare professionals, and Chloe agreed with that, but she knew those people behind bars were sitting ducks. About the only thing she could inspire at this point was early freedom for some of the most well behaved who were close to their release dates anyway – anything to get them out of the cells where they were more likely to catch and spread infection.</p><p>And if that weren't enough, then some idiot boys in blue managed to suffocate yet another unarmed, non-violent black man in Minnesota, of all places. Minnesota, supposed land of nice, boring Midwesterners and Lake Woebegone where all the children were above average. Chloe had seen dozens of race related incidents in the department over the years, and not just between the cops and civilians. She'd watched Dan turned down for promotions early in his career because he was the wrong color, and later promoted (when frankly he no longer deserved it) because suddenly someone decided he was the color they needed at that moment and bonus: a nice light shade of it, too. But through it all, she always thought if she just did her job right and set a good example, that's just about all she <em>could</em> do.</p><p>The Black Lives Matter protesters took a toll on her, too. She was already stretched thin, the entire city was antsy after being cooped up for weeks and then the added violence and anger upped the number of homicides by more than 30 percent. But the absolute topper in this unbelievable tower of crap? Once the liberals started calling to Defund the Police, Chloe knew there was no way to turn down the heat on the autoclave that was her mind. She was simply going to explode. She even <em>agreed </em>with someof the sense of it, but she knew it was just going to become another political tool between the left and right. Did she think more money should be spent on education in deprived communities? On social services? On mental healthcare? You betcha. Should the police have to go through even more de-escalation training? Couldn't hurt. But was she going to give up her vest or her sidearm or the backup of a SWAT team when needed and still work in the field? No fucking way.</p><p>“I don't blame you one bit for quitting, Detective. The police deserve more respect than they're getting.”</p><p>Of course the patron of police and military had his dander up too, though, Chloe thought it was just Lucifer popping up for a moment to console her. She hadn't even had enough me-time in the shower to pray to him lately, but sometimes she wondered if he could read her thoughts. He swore when they met he wasn't Jedi, but maybe he sort of was if she were complaining loudly enough to herself.</p><p>Chloe leaned over the guardrail of the back deck, looking out toward the ocean and blew out a long breath. “Sometimes we do, and sometimes we don't. I'm not surprised by the push back. It's just … it's just too much right now, though.”</p><p>When she looked back up, he was gone.</p><p>He hadn't fled yet, though. He wanted to check on Chloe's daughter. He and all his siblings had often felt slighted by their father's absence during their lives. He knew Dan's death would be a terrible blow to her. Given the girl's age, even more difficult than it had been for Chloe when her father died.</p><p>“Child?” he said, pushing on the door. “I promise it will get better.”</p><p>She was standing by the window of her room, staring out toward the area where he'd once seen someone popping up from Hell.</p><p>“Can't you read?!” she shot back before inhaling a disgusting, snot-filled sniffle but never took her eyes off the spot.</p><p>Michael looked down at the sign taped to her door.</p><p>No boys allowed</p><p>except Lucifer and</p><p>Dad.</p><p>However, a small “not” had been squeezed in front of the “Lucifer” and a black sharpie line was scratched back and forth through both words. He marveled that his brother, the Devil, had held pride of placement over her own father, whose name just looked like it was added as an afterthought. Michael also wondered what it was he had done that enabled her to see through his ruse. Did she already know Lucifer had a twin? Did she have some greater insight as he suspected Miss Lopez did as well? He'd need to be more careful than ever.</p><p>-0-</p><p>The body formerly known by penthouse regulars as Detective Douche snuck up the stairs and scurried over to the vault. He flipped open the faux stone panel and entered the combination.<br/>
“Hey Dan, how's life treating you?”</p><p>“Oh … er … Greetings, Mazikeen. I am well.”</p><p>“I don't know. … The doctors in the hospital said you were going to have a real fight to the death with that virus.”</p><p>“Well, you know, sometimes doctors are wrong. I got better.”</p><p>“Seriously, Charon? I can still see the freezer burns on that body's shoulders through the flimsy shirt and you're acting like what? You caught a little too much sun at the beach?”</p><p>“How did you know? Surely the humans <em>do </em>get sun burned here.”</p><p>“Humans can't enter the sick rooms at the hospital, but that didn't mean I couldn't. I didn't want Dan to die alone.”</p><p>“That was most … noble of you.”</p><p>“Which is <em>not</em> something I can say of you. Lucifer banned possession ages ago.”</p><p>“I know. I'm only here because Lilith sent me. Hell has been changing in our Lord's absence and not for the better.”</p><p>“Hell's always been … well, you know … hellish.”</p><p>“Actually, besides Mother, I'm the only one who understands that wasn't always true.”</p><p>Mazikeen knew that Charon was one of the oldest residents of Hell, but he rarely spoke of the time before she and most of her siblings were born.</p><p>“Mazikeen, our siblings are starving – <em>literally</em>. It wasn't just a seasonal famine. And the cells … you wouldn't believe me. We needed to do <em>something</em> to ensure Lucifer stayed, and that's why I'm here. There's a vial in the vault. Mother wants it.”</p><p>“How does Lilith even know about that?”</p><p>“From Kinley … when you killed him. We knew it had been your blade.”</p><p>“Why didn't you just jump into the priest?”</p><p>“Because even though he said Chloe Decker would have it, we were betting that she'd entrust it to you. Kinley knew she was on her way elsewhere in Europe. But you should know, Belphgor was sent to occupy Kinley. To tidy up loose ends.”</p><p>“So now what? Lilith wants to poison Lucifer to make sure he never leaves.”</p><p>“It's insurance.”</p><p>In the blink of an eye, Mazikeen had Dan's body pinned up against the wall, her blade to his temple. “Your explanation better be <em>very</em> good.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>“Linda, I think there's something wrong with Time,” said Amenadiel, as he set a kettle down on one of the burners of her vintage O'Keefe and Merritt and turned on the flame.</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“You recall that Lucifer told you time runs differently in Hell?”</p><p>“Yes, he said a few minutes on Earth could be hours or years in Hell, depending on the perspective of the inhabitant.”</p><p>“Similarly, in Heaven, Time feels different, too. There are beautiful moments that seem to last forever and others when time seems to fly.”</p><p>“So what is it you think is wrong with Time here?”</p><p>“I'd say it's speeding up.”</p><p>“Humans sometimes perceive time differently, especially when a lot is going on in their lives, or when the opposite is true and they're very bored. And well … God knows there's been a lot of upsetting things going on lately all over our planet.”</p><p>“True … and I've considered that as well. If all these angry and worried humans might not be <em>influencing</em> things?”</p><p>“How? We can't self-actualize the way angels do.”</p><p>“Maybe not on the same scale, but you do all have a divine spark. If enough of you were all terrified at the same moment or thinking precisely the same things? I don't know, of course, but what if half the planet were all thinking too much was happening at once? Would that actually make Time move faster?”</p><p>“Amenadiel, you told me there has never been such a thing as an angel baby. Therefore, we have no idea what would be normal in Charlie's development. I can only gauge his growth by human standards.”</p><p>“Okay ...”</p><p>“Well, by human standards, he's a <em>really </em>big boy now. And mostly, I've just chalked that up to the fact that you're a large and tall angel, but if you believe there is something going on with Time, is it possible that this is affecting him?”</p><p>“I don't know, Linda. Perhaps I should fly up to Heaven and try to speak to Father.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Belphgor ate his way through the pastas of Italy, stayed a while in Belgium because their portions were so much larger yet every bit as delicious as what he'd been served in France, and considered a trip up to Scotland for the smoked salmon and black angus, but his aumoniere, once overflowing with cash he'd liberated from the Vatican's coffers, was growing light. He thought it wise to head to LA to make sure Cain's plan hadn't failed or drag Lucifer back to Hell, if it had.</p><p>At the airport, dozens of guards wanted to take Kinley's temperature, and were asking endless questions about where he'd visited, how long, whether he'd been in contact with anyone else that was ill and so forth. He watched humans scurrying about him in a heightened sense of panic and was told at one point that he wasn't allowed to enter the U.S. He made his way to Ireland, and then bribed a guilty American priest with a similar face to Kinley's to lend him his passport. But after he finally managed to cross America, he'd been subjected to so much fear and hate and anger that he was really beginning to rethink the whole “Lucifer's clearly saving all the good stuff for himself” philosophy. Frankly, he'd be perfectly thrilled to go back to Hell at this point, if only someone could guarantee him a bacon-egg-and-cheese biscuit each day, and maybe a maple donut. A caramel swirl latte would seal the deal, but he'd even be willing to go without the beverage. He was a demon after all, and since the day his mother was forced to flee Eden for her own sanity, demons were used to hardship.</p><p>When he finally reached LA, he found that Lux was closed down, but he'd been clever and come in through the parking garage. Mazikeen was more clever, and was lying in wait by the bar. He didn't even get a finger of Scotch from the top shelf before she pounced.</p><p>“I've been waiting for ages for you, Tubby.”</p><p>“You're going to send me back.”</p><p>“Eventually, but until then, you and me – we're on food duty.”</p><p>“You serve victuals in this establishment?”</p><p>“Drop shipment of emergency rations to Hell. I've got cases of freeze dried everything, jerky, trail mix, coconut water, Fruit Loops … you know, the basics.”</p><p>“But how can we get there?”</p><p>“Chloe Decker's spawn found a way down.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>The first three Lana Goodson Mysteries were overwhelming successes. The chemistry between Penelope Decker and her truly scrumptious sidekick Justin Highrider, a dead ringer for Tom Cruise c. Risky Business, kept 60-something female fans clamoring for more. Filming of the fourth installment, however, was interrupted for months thanks to covid19. Penelope packed her bags, left her corporate rental in Toronto behind, and settled into her new digs in Malibu for the duration. She had a lung condition, and likely wouldn't be able to go back to work until a vaccine was readily available. Passing time gazing at the ocean views from her newly restored Craig Ellwood two story, however, was not a burden.</p><p>About mid-summer, fearing escalating positive cases might force LA into another lockdown, Penelope proposed an outdoor get-together while they had the chance. None of the family had been able to properly mourn Dan yet, and given the timing of his death during the emerging pandemic, there hadn't even been a cremation acknowledgment, much less a luncheon. Chloe still had her ex-husband's ashes in the back of her closet, waiting for a safer time to take them to the beach for a scattering ceremony, letting Dan surf one last wave. Penelope thought her daughter and granddaughter and their small group of friends had all been under such stress recently, the fresh air, a celebration of Dan's life and honoring him with a final goodbye would do all of them a world of good.</p><p>The Ellwood sat fairly close to the small service road that traced the ocean overlook, allowing the lush lawn of the yard to sprawl generously without interruption behind it. The lot was artfully planted with palm trees and Birds of Paradise, leading the eye to a promontory jutting out above the rocky shore below. A previous owner had had the house copied in miniature as a playhouse for his daughter, and the folly still sat out on the furthest point of the property. Closer to the pool and cabana house, a generous buffet was set up on tables twice as long as one might expect in order to observe proper social distancing. And finally, a number of comfortable white cushioned dining chairs formed a large ring at the center of the lawn, leaving adequate space between each so everyone could still face each other while safely eating off the individual folding TV trays that had been set up before each seat.</p><p>It wasn't Chloe and Trixie's first visit, but the last time they had, the gardeners had been tearing up the property.</p><p>“Mom, it's gorgeous, They really did a great job.”</p><p>“Thanks, Pumpkin. I had the caterer make several of Dan's favorites, too. I know it's kind of silly, but --”</p><p>“No Mom. It's not. I get it. It means a lot to me, and it will to Trixie, too, even if she doesn't realize it now.”</p><p>“Oh … there's Linda and Charlie. … Dr. Linda, welcome to my new home. Where's Amenadiel?”</p><p>“I don't know if he'll be able to make it. I left him a note in case he gets home in time, but he had to make a little emergency visit home. He's already been gone a week.”</p><p>“Oh, I hope no one else is sick.”</p><p>“No, no. Just some family business to sort out.”</p><p>Chloe raised an eyebrow and Linda shook her head slightly in the universal Tribe sign of “not now, I'll tell you later.”</p><p>“Hi Charlie,” cooed Penelope, gesturing out to the playhouse. “Do you see what I see over there. I think that's a little house just the right size for someone like you!”</p><p>The 2-year-old, who looked more the size of an average 4-year-old clutching a graying Ikea plush goose to his chest, giggled. “Trixie show me?”</p><p>“Sure,” she agreed, and took him by the hand to go explore.</p><p>“Hey Ellen,” said Maze, as the two pulled into the driveway within seconds of each other.</p><p>Ella rolled her eyes. “You know one of these days …”</p><p>“Don't sweat it, Lopez. It's not because I don't know your name is Ella. You just kind of remind me of a pet I had when I was a kid.”</p><p>“Really, Maze? That is so sweet. … So, what kind of pet was Ellen?”</p><p>“A hellcat.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yep. Cute and fluffy on the outside, but wicked fierce to the core.”</p><p>“Awwww.”</p><p>It wasn't true, but it was Dan's memorial, and she wanted to put Lopez in a better mood before the teary-eyed speeches began. If it were up to her, they'd all just get drunk. Wasn't that what you were supposed to do at funerals, anyway?</p><p>“Oh, you must be Miss Lopez,” said Penelope.</p><p>“Oh-my-God! I mean … I knew, of course, but it's really you. I mean … I know it's not you, you, but it's you.”</p><p>Penelope was used to fan reactions, but she didn't always know which character was their favorite.</p><p>“Which me do you see, Miss Lopez?”</p><p>“Well, Althea,” of course. “In my tween heart of hearts, I'm a Quark, too.”</p><p>“You would have made an adorable Quark. Let me show you around.”</p><p>Maze took the opportunity to head over to Linda who was filling Chloe in on Amenadiel's Time suspicions. “Hey strangers. I don't see drinks in your hands.”</p><p>“I was really going to try to avoid drunkenness today, Maze. I have to drive Trixie home afterwards.”</p><p>“<em>Humans</em>.”</p><p>“Maze, in all your time around Lucifer and Hell, did you ever hear anything about time speeding up or slowing down <em>on Earth</em>?”</p><p>“It's definitely a Hell thing, but no, never on the Earthly plane, at least not that I know of.”</p><p>“What's a Hell thing?” asked Michael, suddenly coming up behind Chloe and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Detective. Linda. <em>Mazie</em>.”</p><p>“Actually, I wanted to know if Time <em>can </em>speed up or slow down on Earth,” clarified Linda.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Because Amenadiel's concerned that it's speeding up here.”</p><p>“Well, I suppose he of all of us would know. Frankly, <em>I'd</em> be pleased if all this unpleasantness would pass more quickly and we could all get on with the election, kick the Loser out of the White House, and all pick up with our lives where we left off before it began.”</p><p>Chloe glanced up at him. Was Lucifer finally beginning to reacclimate to her? Stop running and accept that she'd come to realize that it wasn't just a question of whether he was good or evil or whether she were afraid of him or not. Turns out what he had been condemned to do in Hell <em>was</em> monstrous, even without Middle Age humanity's layers of horrific art emphasizing the creature's more disturbing physical aspects. But society and she had also been adding to the mess. Throwing more criminals into a system of punishment that was so very unlikely to lead to their redemption, they would undoubtedly end up in Lucifer's court, or fiery pit or cauldron of damned souls or whatever it really looked like down there, keeping him imprisoned and weighted down with their damage. If he was supposed to have been rebirthing them down there – as so many bizarre artists had proposed with his extra lady parts – maybe humanity could at least be doing a much better job of sorting and handling the recyclables before shipping them off for final processing. So she'd finally taken the steps to at least try to change her own system with an eye to eventually easing his eternal burden. And then the last time he'd popped around, she reached out and invited him to the memorial, but told him not to bother at all if he were just going to up and disappear as usual, much less use the D-word during their final farewell to Trixie's father.</p><p>“Mommy, mommy!” called Charlie from the buffet.</p><p>“Excuse me, duty calls. But Lucifer, we should talk later, you know, in session.”</p><p>“Think I'll go check on Ella, too,” said Maze, taking a curious sniff along Michael's shoulder before walking away.</p><p>“So you're going to stay a respectable amount of time?” Chloe asked stepping away so she could get some perspective.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Just for today or is this a … sign?”</p><p>“I --”</p><p>Apparently, Mr. Goose had been accidentally abandoned somewhere. Trixie and Penelope were searching below the tablecloths, trying to head off a tearful crisis moment.</p><p>“Oh wait. Maybe he left it in the playhouse. I'll run and check.”</p><p>As Trixie skipped across the lawn toward the promontory, Chloe noticed one of her bounces sent her flying into the air higher than anyone would expect. And then she saw and heard it. The ground rippling and twisting.</p><p>“Everyone get into the cabana,” yelled Penelope. “It's reinforced for quakes.”</p><p>Goddess knows the steel and glass Ellwood wasn't. Linda scooped up Charlie and headed for cover; Ella not far behind. Shallow rooted palms were toppling right and left. Penelope looked to Chloe, who was staring wide-eyed as Trixie continued to barrel toward the playhouse. Chloe began to run but her daughter was yards ahead, “Trix, stop!” Then the ground buckled and split right below the child, and Penelope and Chloe each felt their hearts seize up in terror.</p><p>Three generations of Decker women screamed out at once, “LUCIFER!”</p><p>Michael did not hesitate to rush ahead of Chloe, faster even than her eyes could see. The sounds grew more violent, earth flying in all directions, tectonic plates shifting, rocks shearing off the edge of the promontory and tumbling down to the water. Chloe eventually saw Michael throw the upper half of his body over the edge of the chasm that had developed and freeze.</p><p>
  <em>No. Please. No!</em>
</p><p>“Linda, you stay here with Charlie, in case there's an aftershock. I'm going to check on the others.”</p><p>“I'll go with you.”</p><p>Maze raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“Backup. It could be dangerous.”</p><p>Maze and Ella caught up with Penelope, and they all came up behind Chloe and Michael who were both lying on their stomachs squinting down some 50 feet into a newly created fisher.</p><p>“Trix? Trixie, can you hear me?” called Chloe.</p><p>As the clouds of dust finally began to dissipate, the view to the bottom became clearer. There, motionless at the floor of the rent, lay Trixie, carefully cradled in the arms of a celestial being, who looked as though he'd just flown through the molten core of the Earth. His dragon-like wings were wrapped around them both to protect from further falling debris.</p><p>“Are they alive?” asked Penelope hesitantly.</p><p>“Yes,” Michael replied in a voice that was no longer Lucifer's. “I can see Trixie breathing, and my brother is immortal.”</p><p>“<em>Brother?”</em> questioned Chloe.</p><p>“Michael,” answered Maze. “Lucifer mentioned years ago he had a twin. Patron Angel of Police and Military, wasn't it?”</p><p>“You've got to be kidding me?”</p><p>“'No, I'm afraid not,” admitted Michael.</p><p>“What is it about me and lying cops? First Dan, then Pierce, now <em>you</em>? If I hadn't spent the last two years researching who Lucifer is only to discover I'd grown so much myself in the process, I would punch you in the face.”</p><p>“Girlfriend, I would not let that stop you,” added Ella. “You know, I idolized you as a kid, <em>Saint</em> Michael. Definitely going to be buying different Christmas decorations this year. … Shit, this is a lot to process.”</p><p>“Ella. I need you <em>not</em> to freak out now. That can all wait until later. Mom, you too.”</p><p>“Please, Pumpkin. I was a sci-fi actress. This is child's play.”</p><p>“We've got bigger problems, people. Lucifer's not immortal around Chloe.”</p><p>“<em>What?”</em></p><p>“Long story, Decker. Later. We need to get down there.”</p><p>By now Linda had caught up to them, holding Charlie tightly by the hand. “Someone call 911.”</p><p>“No, we can't let anyone see him like that. Mom, do you still have our old rock climbing gear?</p><p>“Sure, Pumpkin. On the shelves in the garage.”</p><p>“That's not necessary. I can fly down,” assured Michael.</p><p>“We all can fly down,” said a medic coming up quickly from behind them. There was another, helping her with a stretcher.</p><p>“Rae-rae?”</p><p>“Hey Ella.”</p><p>“So … not a ghost, after all?”</p><p>“No, but hold that thought.”</p><p>“Yep. No problema.”</p><p>“Everyone, this is my sister Azrael and my brother Raphael.”</p><p>“Azrael, as in the Angel of Death? Does that mean Lucifer is ...”</p><p>“No. No! He's not on my docket for today, but he could be hurt.”</p><p>In the course of their conversations, Lucifer's skin had slowly returned to normal patch by patch, and once his siblings had lowered themselves into the pit, his wings retracted of their own accord. Raphael took Trixie from Lucifer's arms, ascended to the lawn and carefully laid her down on the grass, as Chloe followed.</p><p>“Chloe Decker, I am the Angel of Healing. We could take your daughter to a hospital to be examined if you prefer, but given the current health crisis, I wouldn't recommend it.”</p><p>“Please, can you help her?”</p><p>“She doesn't need any help. She is completely fine. No injuries. No concussion. She's just asleep.”</p><p>“Should I wake her?”</p><p>“Mom?”</p><p>“Yes, baby?”</p><p>“Is it okay if Lucifer tells me one more story before he has to go back to Hell?”</p><p>Chloe looked flummoxed. She had no idea her daughter really believed Lucifer had gone to Hell – or that he was actually the Devil.</p><p>“We will try to arrange it, Child. I must go attend to him now.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Linda took Charlie home, learning from Raphael that Amenadiel was still in the Silver City, awaiting an audience with his Father. Maze drove Ella back to her apartment and planned to stay as long as necessary to answer her questions. The pair would check in the next day at the penthouse, to which the two Angel medics were transferring Lucifer. Chloe settled Trix into the guest bedroom at her Mother's for the night, and then headed to her car to join the others.</p><p>“Chloe Decker?”</p><p>“What? No more <em>Detective</em>?”</p><p>“It is my brother's term of endearment for you. I dare not usurp it.”</p><p>“It was you every time, wasn't it? In Rome? At the precinct? The back deck at the beach house? In my goddamn bedroom after I came?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“My God-given directive is to watch over humanity and mind the chaos. It's a much simpler task to perform if my twin is in Hell. To be honest, I didn't like it when he was sent there as a punishment, but this time he went willingly. I pretended to be him because I needed to keep you from praying to him constantly, calling him back … <em>and</em> I had hoped to convince you he wasn't worth it. That he was trifling with your affections. If you continued to fear him or even dislike him, he would stay away.”</p><p>“Well you kind of sent that plan up in smoke when you kept saving my life.”</p><p>“I started to see why he cared for you. I started to care … myself. The last few times I've visited and this afternoon just before the earthquake … I was tempted to step fully into my twin's life and take it for my own. … I'm sorry.”</p><p>“I'll … take it under consideration … but I'm not the only one you should be apologizing to.”</p><p>“Would you let me fly you to the penthouse? It would be much quicker.”</p><p>“I don't know. Is that a thing?”</p><p>“A … <em>thing?”</em></p><p>“Yeah, is flying with me the angel equivalent of a human copping a feel from his brother's girlfriend?”</p><p>“I assure you, Chloe Decker, it is no more than practical transport,” he laughed.</p><p>-0-</p><p>“Where is everyone?” Chloe asked as they entered from the balcony.</p><p>“I can hear them upstairs.”</p><p>“Upstairs? We're already in the <em>penthouse</em>.”</p><p>“Have you never looked up from street level? You can clearly see the balcony wrapping about. That's where we are now. But there's another floor sitting above it.”</p><p>“The blue lights through the vertical slit windows. You're right. I've noticed them at night and wondered about it. But there's no higher floor on the elevator.”</p><p>“Must be access somewhere,” Michael said, moving from room to room and opening closets. “This way.”</p><p>Chloe passed through Lucifer's bedroom and into his walk-in wardrobe room. One of the many doors opened not to clothing, but a very steep staircase.</p><p>“I just don't want to think about how many Staircase to Heaven jokes he's made about this over the years.”</p><p>“You know my brother well.”</p><p>The stairs led to a platform and another heavy steel door, labeled with a childish, pink glittery sign: No humans allowed except Beatrice and the Detective.</p><p>“Not as well as my daughter, apparently.”</p><p>She turned the lever and entered into a single, high ceilinged, gymnasium loft type space. The wavy blue lights visible from the street were clearly being caused by reflections off the long, narrow pool set up for laps. The rest of the floor was a kind of dojo, floors covered in work out mats and walls lined with various weaponry. Above, she spied numerous ropes, bars and rings suspended from the ceiling, which Chloe supposed, knowing Lucifer, could be for sexual exploits, but were equally likely to be for normal celestial exercise. He had developed a magnificent chest in recent years, and she imagined anyone with wings needed to keep those support muscles in good shape.</p><p>Azrael and Raphael had laid out Lucifer's body on the mats. He was completely and gloriously naked, highlighting the nasty purple bruises on his chest and shoulders. The two were making notes and performing diagnostic tests with primitive looking tools the likes of which she'd never seen. In one corner, though, she saw what appeared to be a fairly professional human microscope hooked up to a laptop on a table as well as sets of test tube holders with vials of blood.</p><p>“How is he doing, Raph?”</p><p>“Well … he's not asleep at the moment, and he's not in a coma. I believe he can hear us, but he doesn't respond.”</p><p>“Why is he bruised?” asked Chloe.</p><p>“He was wearing that,” said Raphael, pointing to a heap of ruined clothing, metal and feathers toward the wall, “under his suit.”</p><p>Michael picked up the feathershirt with the attached chains and noted the twisting stress marks on the ones that had finally broken free. “A hairshirt, Luci? Seriously?”</p><p>“The links were reinforced with his feathers, too,” noted Azrael. “He was pulling a crapload of weight.”</p><p>“Why?” asked Chloe.</p><p>“I would guess,” posited Michael, “he chained himself to Hell, in case he were tempted to leave.”</p><p>“And then I called him.”</p><p>“And then you, Trixie and your mother <em>all</em> called him.”</p><p>“Is he in shock? Traumatized?”</p><p>“No. His brainwaves seem completely normal. He just doesn't have any more energy.”</p><p>“Oh no. Raph … do you remember that thing that Father used to say about flying too fast?”</p><p>Raphael took in a deep breath, eyebrows both lifted in understanding. “Lucifer never believed it. He always wanted to prove that boundary didn't exist, and yet he'd always chicken out in the end.”</p><p>“Guys? What thing about flying too fast?” asked Azrael.</p><p>“You might be too young to remember, Sister. Father used to insist that we all have an absolute speed limit. Exceed it, and you run out of energy. Lucifer didn't believe him, but of course he was afraid to test it. If Father were correct, the end result would have been falling from the sky like a rock.”</p><p>“So ... how do we get our Icarus some replacement energy?” asked Azrael.</p><p>“I'm guessing Gatorade solution with a shot of scotch added,” huffed Chloe.</p><p>“I am not familiar with this Gatorade, though it sounds like some kind of ancient native American medicine. I'll need to go back to those samples and do more tests. It will take me several hours before I have results, but I doubt any kind of human IV would ever be enough. Angels are usually self-sustaining but he'll need a huge burst to get going again.”</p><p>“I want to spend the night with him.”</p><p>All three angels looked at her thoroughly scandalized.</p><p>“Geez, guys I wasn't suggesting anything <em>untoward</em>! Though frankly I doubt your brother would mind if I had. … Trixie's safe with my mom. I need to be sure Lucifer's safe, too.”</p><p>“Well, we were just going to keep him on the mat for observation.”</p><p>“That's fine. I'm used to camping. I'll just bring up some pillows and blankets.”</p><p>While Chloe and Azrael descended the stairs, Raphael started adjusting the sliding room partitions so that he might work through the night undisturbed, but dim the lights in the rest of the space.</p><p>“Raph, someone's going to have to guard the Gates of Hell.”</p><p>“Call Amenadiel.”</p><p>“He has a son now. We cannot ask that of him. I will go. I think I can fool them for a while at least. But in the end, I cannot be in two places at once. We need our brother to wake up.”</p><p>“I'll do my best, Michael.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>“So … Angel of Death. Does that mean you're like God's hired assassin, smiting the first born of His enemies?” called Chloe from the bathroom as she stripped off her dirty clothes, gave herself a good scrubbing with a washcloth and donned one of Lucifer's silk pajama shirts.</p><p>“I wish my life were that exciting! I <em>do</em> get some interesting interpretations in literature. But no … mostly I'm just a soul gatherer. I escort the important cases to their final destinations.”</p><p>“But there must be thousands of people dying right this minute.”</p><p>“I have assistants who will cover the deaths in my absence.”</p><p>“So Death really <em>does</em> get to take a holiday?”</p><p>“<em>Not officially</em>. You might say Raph and I are kind of running rogue on this one. Like Michael, we were never comfortable with what happened after the Rebellion. The moment I saw you scream on the flatscreen, we left Heaven to help.”</p><p>“The flatscreen?”</p><p>“Yeah, um, … not to make you feel too self-conscious but your life has kind of become like <em>the </em>most popular reality TV show in Heaven. Deckerstar is everyone's OTP.”</p><p>“Are you serious?”</p><p>“Yep.”</p><p>“I'm the Chloe Kardashian of Heaven?”</p><p>“Minus the bathroom breaks and sexy stuff, they've pretty much seen it all up there.”</p><p>“Good to know.”</p><p>It <em>was</em> actually, because she assumed it meant cuddling under the covers with Lucifer, even though nothing carnal was about to happen, would be enough to get some hours edited out of tonight's episode. Surely, given the angels' reaction to her comment about a sleep over, Heaven must be a very G-rated kind of place.</p><p>“Right … so take these linens. I actually need to check on a few things in the outside world, but I'll bring up a breakfast tray in the morning. Raph will likely want to start doing more observations about sunup.”</p><p>“Okay, thanks.”</p><p>Chloe climbed back up the stairs with her bedding, made a nest for herself and Lucifer, and then kind of rolled him into it, spooning herself around his backside and pulling a soft cotton blanket over them both.</p><p>“Sorry, I hope I didn't just make your bruises worse. Thank you, for saving Trixie again,” she said to him quietly.</p><p>
  <em>You're welcome, Detective.</em>
</p><p>“I've missed you a lot.”</p><p>
  <em>And I you.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Questions welcome and comments appreciated.</p><p>Whoever can guess what's being referenced by the Lana Goodson Mysteries wins a Virtual Single Malt Cappuccino!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. ... and Saint Michael</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Charlotte recalled Azrael's metaphor for the physical configuration of Heaven, Earth and Hell. As she watched Lucifer rise into the air with those massive chains straining over his shoulders, she tried to imagine the effect that might have on the Sunset Tower. She did not have to <em>imagine</em> it for long.</p>
<p>What would have been the nightclub Lux and its parking garage was wrenched from the ground, dragged up through miles of dirt, and rock – both molten and solid – until Lucifer had used up every last ounce of his energy to reorient his wing lift backward, allowing him to brake just in time to catch Trixie as gently as the tickle of an angel feather when he broke through the ground below Penelope's yard. The chains had given way well before that moment, but momentum continued to carry Hell up through the ground and then into the earthly atmosphere where it traveled a substantial arc and crashed back down to the planet's surface.</p>
<p>Meanwhile, the hotel and the penthouse above were left without a foundation – everything substantially destabilized by the divinely powerful upward thrust of the King of Hell. The building took a vertical hop, fell back down and then tipped sideways so that the penthouse and all the floors of the hotel came crashing down to the ground.</p>
<p>Freed from her duty of Ella-watching by Azrael, Maze planned to head back to the penthouse and explain the whole immortality sitch to Chloe, but masses of humans were traveling the streets in orderly single-file lines like pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land, and LA car traffic, which was normally just another form of torture, had come to an absolute standstill. She started zig zagging between the humans, getting further and further toward the head of the crowd until she'd journeyed all the way to Tarzana. There, the humans spread out in wonder, entranced by the wreckage from the earthquake, which numerous witnesses had sworn had coincided with the amazing elimination of the not-so-far-away-to-make-it-a-completely-implausible-miracle Apple Fire that had been burning uncontrolled for days beforehand. Despite the rumors, Maze was pretty sure they had no idea why they were being attracted to this spot <em>or</em> that they could even actually see what was now resting at ground zero right before their eyes. Heaven's Pearly Gates were battered but still standing right below the buzzing neon sign of Zany Wings. And the Gates of Hell had not fared much better, crowned as they were with the shabby placard of the Budget Hut. There remained, however, a gap of about 12 feet between them that souls could not cross. Angels and demons could, of course, but the few that were pressing their noses through their respective bars seemed terrified to try.</p>
<p><em>Way to go on the social distancing guys</em>, thought Maze.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Lucifer hadn't moved a muscle all night, and his skin felt cool to the touch. This struck Chloe as wrong, since the few times she'd embraced him or been pressed close while sneaking up on a miscreant, she had noted he was one of those types of people that just felt like the internal furnace was cranked up eternally. The contrast was peculiar too, as she'd never known him to perspire – not even while dancing amidst a crowd at Lux. On 95-degree days, he still looked as cool as a cucumber in a three-piece suit.</p>
<p>Raphael started making a bit of noise behind the partition, around about sunrise, hoping Chloe Decker would awake and make herself presentable for the day. He needn't have worried, though, as moments later Azrael and Ella returned, bearing coffee, cinnamon rolls and a jar of arnica gel.</p>
<p>“Rae-rae told me about the bruising, Chloe. Just slather this on and it will work its magic.”</p>
<p>“Thanks Ella. … So, you're okay with all this?” she asked, smoothing the gel over Lucifer's skin, trying to be extra gentle on the black and blue spots, and then wiping the excess off on a Starbuck's napkin.</p>
<p>“Not going to have a breakdown and spiral into months of alcohol and drug abuse, if that's what you mean.”</p>
<p>“That's <em>reassuring</em>.”</p>
<p>“And you, Mr. Not-A-Method-Actor-Afterall owe me an explanation why my name is not one of the exceptions on that Keep Out sign for your super-cool private gym! … But, honestly, I don't know if I'll ever be okay with the Big Guy again.”</p>
<p>Chloe stirred an extra sugar packet into her coffee along with double creams. “Yeah, some days I think I was much better off when I thought it was all metaphors and mythology. I spend a lot of time being angry at a person I can't even yell at now.”</p>
<p>“Ladies,” Raphael greeted, eyeing the remaining cinnamon rolls with interest. “Oh, arnica gel. Excellent idea, Ella Lopez. We hadn't bothered because we expected the bruising to clear rapidly.”</p>
<p>“That's because you apparently don't really know about Lucifer's vulnerability around Chloe,” said Linda, who was a little out of breath from having just run up the stairs with her face mask on. Charlie was strapped into a backpack carrier that looked like something one might use for camping in the Sierras. “I received a text from Maze. She's being held up on Hell business and before you ask, no, I have no idea how she got there or what it's about, but she wanted to make sure that everyone understood these critical facts: Lucifer loses his immortality around Chloe. It may slow down his healing as well when she's close by.”</p>
<p>“<em>How?</em>” asked Chloe. “And why on earth didn't he <em>say</em> anything? He never wore body armor in the field! He just kept throwing himself in harm's way.”</p>
<p>“And he'd do it again and again,” added Linda. “He doesn't fully understand why, neither do Amenadiel nor I, but angels do seem to self-actualize, which is to say they can manifest physical symptoms of their thoughts and feelings.</p>
<p>“If he feels emotionally vulnerable around you, he may also be making himself physically vulnerable around you. Not consciously, but nonetheless, the effect is the same.”</p>
<p>“You are a doctor of the human mind,” stated Raphael.</p>
<p>“Yes, and Lucifer's therapist.”</p>
<p>“I would like to speak to you about that later, in private, if I may.”</p>
<p>“I can't guarantee I can answer all your questions, but I'll try.”</p>
<p>“And given what Dr. Linda Martin has just told us, it might be best if Chloe Decker departed. I can continue to perform direct diagnostics on my brother throughout the day, and perhaps there will be some change with her absence.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” agreed Chloe. “I need to check on my daughter, anyway, but do you have a cell phone, Raphael? Do you know how to use one?”</p>
<p>“I have an emergency flip phone,” said Linda, fishing around in Charlie's diaper bag.</p>
<p>“I'm off today, so I'll get him set up with that,” added Ella. “Don't you have to work, Linda?”</p>
<p>“All by Zoom now, but yes, I do have appointments today. Let's say we all reconvene here about 6 to make plans, but Raphael, please <em>do</em> call if there are any changes.”</p>
<p>He nodded, and went back to his table.</p>
<p>“So <em>this </em>is what all that you-make-me-vulnerable-too stuff was about ages ago when I admitted there might be something special between us,” Chloe accused, while kneeling back down at Lucifer's side. She fluffed his pillow, rolled him so he was lying on his back again, and straightened the sheets and blanket over his torso. “I'm going to go spend the day with Trixie, and hopefully all this clears up, but I swear as soon as you wake up, we are going to have one <em>very </em>long talk.”</p>
<p>Linda departed and Chloe walked back down to Lucifer's wardrobe to find something small enough to wear, eventually settling for a pair of draw string-work out pants and a button down shirt. She rolled up the pant cuffs as well as the sleeves, and of course the shirt was too long, but at least the ensemble was clean. It was going to be her third walk of shame from his apartment in all the years she'd known him.</p>
<p>“And still, we haven't had sex,” she groused. “Blue balls, indeed, Mr. Morningstar.”</p>
<p>“Hey Chloe … um, you've got some,” said Azrael waving her palms about her own chest, “<em>stuff</em> on yourself.”</p>
<p>“What? … Ugh. <em>Seriously</em>?” asked Chloe, glancing skywards. “Of all times, <em>now</em>?!”</p>
<p>“What is it?”</p>
<p>“Cruel hand of fate, I guess,” sighed Chloe, taking a dry washcloth and trying to absorb some of the spots from Lucifer's designer shirt. Luckily she chose a white one. “Or just your dad's shitty design.”</p>
<p>“Come again?”</p>
<p>“Pretty much every month of my life since I was 14, not only do I get my period, but BONUS: for a few days beforehand, leaky boobs, too. Imagine you're an 18-year-old, starring in your first major motion picture, and all of production has to postpone for a 10-day shut down because your freaking body won't cooperate with the costume. And the icing on Miss Havisham's rotting wedding cake? When I actually <em>do</em> have a kid, I can't make enough breastmilk to actually feed her.”</p>
<p>“Well that <em><b>sucks</b></em> … I mean,” Azrael trying to keep in her laughter. “Crap, that was awkward. I'm really sorry.”</p>
<p>Chloe couldn't help laughing, too. “It's not your fault, obviously. But if I <em>ever </em>meet your Father ...”</p>
<p>Azrael thought it best not to mention Chloe's design flaws might actually be a part of Father's Plan. But how was she ever going to educate Granny Panties Decker?</p>
<p>“Alright. I've got to run. I'll see you back at 6.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>The souls who had fared best in Hell were those caught up in their loops. None of them even noticed the turbulence. Those outside their cells or those whose loops had ceased working, on the other hand, were another story. Not only could they <em>be</em> hurt, but without the construct of the Hell loop resetting their perceptions of reality they <em>stayed </em>injured just as they would have in their living lives. Dan had been tossed down from the canopy just below Lucifer's throne, but luckily landed on top of another demon. He made three trips and dragged said demon, Charlotte and Goddess further from the center into a less dense area and laid them on cots that he purloined from a few of the cells. After a short while, the demon woke from unconsciousness, shook off his injury and started doing the same for others. Dan remained between Charlotte and Goddess, waiting for one of them to awaken.</p>
<p>Meanwhile Abel, severely scraped up but still mobile, searched frantically for his mother. He'd heard from one of the other demons that she'd been up towards Lucifer's throne with the others when pandemonium hit.</p>
<p>“We need more splints,” shouted Lilith. She was walking with a limp and leaning on a makeshift cane.</p>
<p>“We don't <em>have</em> first aid supplies,” cried Dromos from the cot where he'd also been dragged. “We're supposed to do the torture, not fix it.”</p>
<p>“Well rip up anything you can find then. We need bandages and we can't walk out the gate to buy them. There's a gaggle of angels waiting just inside <em>their </em>gate making sure we don't try to sneak out, and the feathered wankers won't lift a finger to help without a word from the Almighty.”</p>
<p>“Even in an emergency like this, Lucifer's old man won't <em>do</em> something?”</p>
<p>“He's tied up in an effing meeting with Amenadiel, and the wusses are too afraid to interrupt.”</p>
<p>“At least we have some food now,” shouted Charon, approaching from the direction of the river. He was toting a pile of Amazon delivery boxes, stacked four high.</p>
<p>“Where did that come from?” demanded Lilith.</p>
<p>“There was a spiral slide. Eve used it to come down from Heaven, so it must have passed through the Earthly plane. There are a ton of boxes at the bottom now. This one has a note affixed.”</p>
<p>“Well what does it say?”</p>
<p>“If it's good enough for astronauts on their way to Mars, it ought to work for starving demons. Just add water. Love, Trixie and Maze. P.S. Daddy, Make sure you listen to Lucifer!”</p>
<p>“Who's Trixie? Is Mazikeen hanging out with a hooker?”</p>
<p>“Trixie's school science project on the Mars mission,” Dan mumbled to himself. “That's from my daughter!” <em>Way to go, monkey!</em></p>
<p>“Maybe we could use the slide to climb back up ourselves and retrieve medicines.”</p>
<p>“Not possible. It all came crashing down with the rest of Hell.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Around 2 p.m. Linda took a break and sent out a group text.</p>
<p>You: Okay Tribe, I have an update from Raphael. He'll fill you in on the details later, but Lucifer is likely to need extended care. 24/7. I can't imagine the Angel of Death and Heaven's Healer will be able to stay at the penthouse indefinitely. What if we all moved in, and spent what time we could rotating shifts? Constant contact with loved ones is important for coma victims. I know that's not quite Lucifer's situation, but it doesn't seem all that different to me, either.</p>
<p>Chloe: Move in?</p>
<p>You: There's a hotel right below his penthouse, remember?</p>
<p>Maze: Lucifer still has five years to go on his lease for the top floor of the hotel. He uses it for clingy guests who overstay their welcome and orgy spill-overs.</p>
<p>Chloe: Lovely.</p>
<p>Ella: Hey, I live in a studio now, overlooking the parking lot of a Ralph's. A room with a view at the Sunset Tower would be quite the upgrade. Count me in.</p>
<p>Chloe: Yeah, Trix and me, too. I'm sure Mom will help as well.</p>
<p>Maze: Still on Hell duty, but I'll be there as soon as I can.</p>
<p>On her way back from Malibu, Chloe picked up pizzas from De Sanos in Santa Monica, and suitcases of clothes for Trixie and herself from the beach house. Pizza was a first for Raphael who hadn't had much experience with Earthly delights until this morning's cinnamon roll. She let them warm in Lucifer's kitchen until Ella, Linda and Charlie had arrived, and although she considered setting them up on the living room cocktail table, it seemed rude to leave Lucifer alone, even if he couldn't join them in the meal. Instead she spread out a picnic on the dojo floor.</p>
<p>“Most of my work takes place in crisis situations, and then I have to fly off to another. I don't have the opportunity to enjoy the culture much. This carbohydrate part – what do you call it?” Raphael asked pointing to the bottom of his slice.</p>
<p>“The crust when it's cooked. The dough beforehand,” answered Ella.</p>
<p>The Angel of Healing ate slowly, picking the slice apart ingredient by ingredient and eating all of each in an order only he seemed to understand.</p>
<p>“So, I believe the problem with Lucifer is rather complex. His health is in no danger, but according to my calculations, he could be in this state for forty years if we can't figure out a faster way to recharge his energy store.”</p>
<p>“Forty <em>years</em>? That's probably the rest of my life,” cried Chloe.</p>
<p>“I know. In celestial terms, it is the blink of an eye. He wouldn't be the first angel to sleep half a century after a particularly grueling injury, but his relationship with you <em>is</em> rather expiration date sensitive.”</p>
<p>“There's also the problem that however long he's here, he has been absent from Hell many, many times longer,” added Azrael.</p>
<p>“If he were any other angel, I could just fly him up to Heaven or even set him out on the balcony to sun himself for a week or two, and he'd be right as rain.”</p>
<p>“How would that help?” asked Ella.</p>
<p>“Angels have photo-receptors in all their cells, not just for sight.”</p>
<p>“You're like plants?!”</p>
<p>“We absorb far different wavelengths … but yes, essentially. We capture light and use the energy directly.”</p>
<p>“And why wouldn't a day in the sun work for Lucifer?” asked Linda.</p>
<p>“Many of his cells have mutated. They were damaged in the Fall. He burned like a meteor. Though he was able to heal over time so that his appearance was restored, he has fundamentally changed operationally. He is still absorbing <em>some</em> light because not every cell was damaged, but that's a relatively small amount. That's why it will take years.”</p>
<p>“If that's the case,” wondered Chloe, “How did he not run out of energy ages ago?”</p>
<p>“He ingests – food, alcohol, copious amounts of narcotics. Divine metabolism will take whatever you give it and burn it for energy, but you have to be able to get the substances in. The movements of chewing and swallowing and eventually digestion still require some energy, and he has nothing to spare right now.”</p>
<p>“So, an IV?” asked Linda.</p>
<p>“It might reduce the time by a few years, but not substantially. And there's the added problem of keeping it in his arm. He's hard to puncture without Chloe Decker around – I know, because I tried earlier today – and it would be difficult to maintain the IV anytime she needed to leave. I also tried a feeding tube and he fought me. I didn't really think he was capable in his current state, but it was brutal, and now he's even more exhausted. The bruises have healed, though, but that, too, took critical energy.”</p>
<p>“What about just trying to pour something like soup down his throat very carefully?”</p>
<p>“I thought you and I might try that experiment tonight Chloe. He might be less hostile with you around.”</p>
<p>“Sure. Of course.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>He was less hostile but still rather fussy. Either he didn't like the cream of pumpkin soup or it was just too difficult for him to swallow. Pouring was impossible. He just gagged and spat it up. An eyedropper made it possible to get a smidgen down, but it wasn't any more effective in getting a quantity of calories into him than the aborted IV drip.</p>
<p>“I will keep working through the night, Chloe Decker. Perhaps inspiration will come.”</p>
<p>She wanted to say something pithy like from an angel's lips to his father's ears, but Chloe was too disheartened. Forty years with an unresponsive loved one was a long time. She dug around in her suitcase looking for something comfortable. Raphael had set the temperature in the dojo at something ideal for Lucifer's current metabolism and recovery, and not surprisingly that was much warmer than the 70-degree air conditioned coolness she was used to during an LA summer. Eventually, she found a pair of light pajama shorts with a tank top, took them with her downstairs for a quick shower and changed.</p>
<p>When she returned upstairs, she noticed Azrael had left some reading material next to her pillow. A dog-eared book of short stories by Guy de Maupassant and a couple of magazine articles paper-clipped together.</p>
<p>The lights were turned low for sleeping, and Lucifer was lying on his back. She thought he still looked a bit put out from being force fed earlier, but knew that could be her imagination.</p>
<p>“Mom arrived about and hour ago. She and Trixie are installed in the hotel downstairs. Ella, Linda and Charlie, too. We still haven't heard back from Amenadiel, though, but Ella's going to visit you for a few hours in the morning while I spend some time with Trix.”</p>
<p>His expression didn't change.</p>
<p>“I'm just going to do a little reading tonight. I'll use the light from my phone. I hope you don't mind.”</p>
<p>
  <em>I would never mind you being here, Detective.</em>
</p>
<p>She moved one of his arms up so it was parallel with the bottom edge of their pillows and pressed her back to his right side, while bringing the sheet up to about waist high. Even after the cool shower, the air still felt warmer than she liked. With her body turned away, she flicked on the light from the phone and opened the book to the page with the folded corner: Idyll. It was only a few pages.</p>
<p>Chloe began to fidget as she read and was suddenly very glad she'd only had private set tutors through high school. She couldn't imagine discussing a story like this in a classroom full of teens. It called to mind Grapes of Wrath, which her tutor <em>had </em>assigned, and it had a highly relevant final scene comparable in subject to what she was reading now, too, but <em>that</em> had been interesting because it cast a hopeless shadow over a long story of survival, which in and of itself had been interesting to her because Hollywood usually preferred happy endings.</p>
<p>But this short piece was so light, it was almost inconsequential. And yet the mutual interaction between the two characters obviously made a world of difference to both. She wondered if Azrael was just trying to make her feel more comfortable about the bit of TMI she'd overshared that morning. Ella had mentioned, back when she still believed her celestial friend to be a ghost, that Azrael was one of the most socially maladroit people she knew, and also one of the sweetest. Perhaps this was just another example of that.</p>
<p>Chloe picked up the other pages, torn from their original magazines and removed the paper clip. She read the titles of the two pieces on adult nursing relationships and –</p>
<p>“She has <em>got</em> to be shitting me!”</p>
<p>Chloe sat up, afraid she might have disturbed Lucifer with her exclamation. If anything, he looked … vaguely curious. She was sure it had to be her own imagination projecting, looked back down at the articles and, in the name of scientific research and <em>only </em>in the name of scientific research went ahead and actually read the first few pages. She had to stop and close her eyes when she felt The Clench in her lower belly.</p>
<p><em>Okay, maybe it wasn't </em>just<em> scientific research.</em></p>
<p>Fact of the matter was, while undeniably turned on she was also simultaneously weirded out. She shifted onto her knees while still sitting upright, and hugged her arms tightly about her waist, as though she could protect herself from her discomfort, even just squeeze the conflicting emotions away.</p>
<p>“Lucifer, you have to know, I would do just about anything to help you right now, but this is just so, so … <em>particular. </em>… And I mean I don't even know if you'd <em>want </em>me to do this for you. … You're really not that fond of babies or children.”</p>
<p>She thought about how awkward the whole process had been even when she was trying in earnest to make it work with her own daughter. She had been hopelessly clumsy, trying to hold her baby with one hand, and bend her breast into the correct shape to shove it into Trix's teeny little mouth with the other. A contingent of Penelope's La Leche League group friends had advised her to just keep trying even though her kid was cranky and it seemed she had little milk to offer. Sometimes getting started was hard, but it was worth it for the incredible bond building between mother and child, which for many locals lasted well into the preschool years. On the other hand, an equally fierce group of her mom's Hollywood friends insisted Chloe stop immediately if she didn't want to have her famous tits lifted by knife point well ahead of when they'd normally need to be. That alone had been a perfect microcosm of the insanity of life in LA. In the end, Chloe succumbed to the bottle, and returned her rented milking machine to the hospital.</p>
<p>Her grip on the hem of her tank top tightened and she started twisting the fabric in her sweaty palms. The stretchy shirt edged lower until the peaks of her breasts were exposed. She raised her right hand to gently touch her left areola, and an almost invisible arc of liquid sailed through the air, wetting the delicate curve of Lucifer's left philtral column. Chloe stared at his mouth while the moonlight coming in through the tall windows of the gymnasium highlighted a single drop as it slowly slipped lower onto his upper lip, and then his tongue darted out and up to catch it.</p>
<p>His slow, asymmetrical grin was one of sheer, unadulterated sin, yet the expression on the rest of his face was positively beatific. She found this contrast to be the most erotic thing she'd ever witnessed in her life. And, frankly, was probably the closest thing to consent he could issue at the moment.</p>
<p>Chloe scooted forward, kneeling beside his chest and bent forward, supporting the heft of one breast in her hand as she angled it toward his mouth. She bumped the erect nipple against his lips gently a few times, hoping he'd be tempted.</p>
<p>“Lucifer … <em>please.</em>”</p>
<p>After a moment, his lips parted ever so slightly, more like he was about to take an extra breath than planning to latch on, but then his tongue peeked out and he circled her nipple with the tip, let his lips press against her skin and drank. It didn't last more than a minute when he released her, as she hadn't much to offer, so she repeated the move with the other breast. He was either too exhausted or too blissed out to re-engage, so she sat back on her calves and watched him for any signs of change. If anything, he appeared deeply asleep.</p>
<p>She removed the tank top, wiped herself dry, fished another t-shirt out of her suitcase and lay down beside him again. Chloe prayed she hadn't just done something she'd be embarrassed about for the rest of her life.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>The single demon guarding Hell's Gate called to her and Maze strode over.</p>
<p>“Mazikeen! When will our King return? There are many injured – souls and demons both, and we have no medical supplies. We'll need an angel's strength, too, to move some of the fallen rocks.”</p>
<p>She glanced over at the righteous cowards guarding Heaven's Gate and snarled.</p>
<p>“On it, Charon,” she nodded.</p>
<p>Mazikeen squared her shoulders, running straight for the angels who raised their swords and tightened their stances. A man in the crowd who may or may not have puffed a bit of weed would later swear to a reporter for the LA Times, he saw some hot chick in skin-tight leather pants do a forward handspring into nothingness. Maze finally found Michael sitting on a bench just outside his Father's study, waiting for his turn after Amenadiel.</p>
<p>“No demon has ever set foot in Heaven.”</p>
<p>“So I've heard … at least a dozen times. I must have jogged four miles all over the place looking for you.”</p>
<p>“You only had to pray.”</p>
<p>Mazikeen raised an eyebrow.</p>
<p>“Right. Forgot who I was talking to for a moment.”</p>
<p>“Lucifer's not going to die, but he's still down for the count. Linda says – and I'm not exaggerating – it could be decades. Hell needs a Lucifer <em>now</em>. I've seen your audition tapes. … You're hired.”</p>
<p>“I need to speak to Father first. To clarify my Purpose.”</p>
<p>“No. You need to act before chaos is come, and I'm telling you it is sitting just 12 feet away from Heaven's Gates right now.”</p>
<p>“How did you know?”</p>
<p>“I <em>read</em>.”</p>
<p>“Enoch?”</p>
<p>“No, Shakespeare.”</p>
<p>Michael looked nonplussed.</p>
<p>“Yes, of course Enoch, you idiot.”</p>
<p>“I'm not sure I can fool them long.”</p>
<p>“Stand up.”</p>
<p>Michael did, and Mazikeen slapped him on the behind.</p>
<p>“Ouch!”</p>
<p>“Back straight. Time to get into character.” She tugged on his black shirt collar, sending a few of the top buttons flying, mussed his hair and then punched him in the right eye.</p>
<p>“What the--” he paused, shifting into his twin's accent. “What the <em>Hell</em> was that for?”</p>
<p>“You need to look the part. Half the demons saw Lucifer take off like a dragon launching toward Michael's forces and the End of Days. They have no idea it was just for Trixie. This is your moment to make a difference for everyone – your family, my family and all the humans in between.</p>
<p>“The demons need extra muscle to clear rubble and make repairs, medical supplies for the injured and a doctor would be a big boon. Unfortunately, I can't bring Linda in there since she's still alive. I've texted Heaven's Healer and warned him this is urgent.”</p>
<p>“Okay. You're right. A lot depends on this. … I will do this. What do I call you in Hell?”</p>
<p>“Maze if you're speaking to me. Mazikeen if speaking of me.”</p>
<p>“I will need your cues often. I certainly do not know all the demons.”</p>
<p>“I'll have your back, just as I had Lucifer's. <em>That</em> you can count on.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Lucifer began to wonder if she were watching porn on her phone from the way she was wriggling around but not sharing any of the details. Sometimes being the Blindness of God was not all it was cracked up to be. But he still had his sense of smell, and it was functioning gloriously. Chloe was clearly becoming aroused.</p>
<p>When he tasted her musky secretion on his tongue, it was a Father-damned, bloody epiphany – as if the universe were condensed down into that one little drop of nourishing oxytocin-laced essence. And then all of a sudden--</p>
<p>“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!” he whinged like a 12-year-old being dragged away by the ear from a peep hole into the women's dressing room on Bergdorf-Goodman's lingerie floor. “<em>Not </em>the right time for a father-son heart to heart!”</p>
<p>“Chloe deserves a little privacy. It's not an easy step for her to take.”</p>
<p>“I don't understand why you insist on interrupting every bloody time we're having a moment. <em>You</em> were the one who ordered Amenadiel to make me a little girlfriend – <em>his</em> words, by the way -- and put her in my path in the first place. So as long as you're getting what you want, why don't you just butt out and let nature take its course.”</p>
<p>God only stared enigmatically at his son.</p>
<p>“What is that noise? Is the Detective asleep now? Sometimes she snores like an Albanian field wench.”</p>
<p>“No, you're hearing Amenadiel in my study though we are both in your head. Don't ask how. I conjured him a couch a few minutes ago, so he's napping.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“He has a two-year old.”</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“Charlie never slept through the night until he was 18 months old. Your brother has a lot of catching up still. Plus we just had a marathon discussion about the nature of Time.”</p>
<p>“Right then, snoozefest, indeed. … Returning to the topic at hand, why do you keep interfering with me and the Detective?”</p>
<p>“Do you think I put her in your path just so you could have sex with her?”</p>
<p>“Sex? Apparently, you won't even let me get to second base!”</p>
<p>“Answer the question, Samael.”</p>
<p>“<em>Fine</em>. … Noooo, I assume you wanted me to love her first, to form a strong bond, to be willing to pledge myself to her for eternity … or at least the length of her lifetime, given that she'll be headed back in your direction one day.”</p>
<p>“And can you honestly say you're ready for that kind of commitment?”</p>
<p>“I was in a significant relationship with Eve. It didn't end well, but I came to understand what's expected from a true partner. … Oddly enough, I suppose I already knew all that just from working side by side with Chloe.”</p>
<p>“Eve? In the garden? You call that significant?”</p>
<p>“No, not in the bloody Garden. On Earth. The past year. Are you having a senior moment? Because she sort of seemed to be as well when I spoke to her last. … Are you behind that, too? … And come to think of it, why do I remember the Detective as the Detective, but also as the Weaponizer? And why did the Detective keep praying to me just to give me a right scolding about knocking before entering her bedroom, even though I had been living with Eve at the time for months?”</p>
<p>“You remember the Weaponizer thread? That's … <em>surprising</em>. I thought I'd been more careful. I liked that one quite a bit, but it never would have landed me a grandson.”</p>
<p>“What?!”</p>
<p>“The human scientists are correct. The 28<sup>th</sup> universe will go out with a whimper and not a Big Crunch. There won't be a 29<sup>th</sup>.”</p>
<p>“Who bloody well cares. That's at least 14 billion years away!”</p>
<p>“You will, when you're 14 billion years older.”</p>
<p>“So <em>what</em>? You've just been trying out new realities willy-nilly to see which one amuses you?”</p>
<p>“I had been hoping to make corrections, but you and Chloe just keep drawing together like iron and magnets and now unfortunately there have been even more consequences. Hence my discussion of Time with Amenadiel.”</p>
<p>“Hold on … is this somehow related to all the problems we've been experiencing in Hell, as well?”</p>
<p>“You've learned a little of your ability to self-actualize. My own children are not the only creations touched by divinity. You should get back and tend to your kingdom, though. It's unstable.”</p>
<p>“Excuse me, but I didn't ask to be turned into Rip Van Winkle just to get out of the whole King of Hell gig.”</p>
<p>“You wanted free will, to suffer the consequences of your own actions.”</p>
<p>“Honestly, I don't think I ever said much about the suffering part.”</p>
<p>“Are you asking me then to … do you a <em>favor</em>? Make your 40-year timeout evaporate?”</p>
<p>Lucifer thought about it for several seconds before responding.</p>
<p>“No. … I did know it was a risk. I made a sacrifice for Chloe and the Urchin, and I won't cheapen my decision by having you erase the cost.”</p>
<p>“I'm impressed, Son. I really am.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Ella woke Chloe the next morning, bearing a tray of steamed milk and two cakes – one angel food and the other Devil's food. Raphael approached with his phone in hand, looking like he was about to ask a question, but he set it on the mat as Ella handed him a fork and a dish with a slice of each.</p>
<p>“Angel Food or Devil Food, which one are you going to choose, buddy?”</p>
<p>“Am I allowed<em> … both</em>?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” laughed Ella.</p>
<p>Raph took a nibble of the spongy white cake, and then a forkful of the chocolate, but nearly dropped his plate when he took one look at Chloe.</p>
<p>“What happened to you?”</p>
<p>“I … <em>nothing</em>. Why?”</p>
<p>“You're deathly pale … and how much do you normally weigh?”</p>
<p>“Oh, round about 120 lbs.”</p>
<p>“I need you on the scale. Now.”</p>
<p>Though puzzled, Chloe followed him and complied.</p>
<p>“116.”</p>
<p>“Oh. It's been a stressful time lately. I may have skipped a few meals in the last few weeks.”</p>
<p>“No. You weren't like this last night. This is sudden.”</p>
<p>“I ...”</p>
<p>“What happened?!” demanded the Healer.</p>
<p>“Just … wait a minute, okay?”</p>
<p>Chloe walked back to the makeshift bed and picked up the articles left by Azrael. “I'm sorry Ella. I'll just be a few minutes.”</p>
<p>“Sure Chlo. I'll just chat with Luce,” she said looking over and smirking. “And I'm not going to give you the -ifer until you wake up. How's that for incentive?”</p>
<p>Chloe set the articles down on Raph's table.</p>
<p>“Okay look, it's not like this is a thing I've ever been into before, but I have … let's just call it a … <em>medical condition</em> … involving … <em>leakiness</em>. And your sister knew, and she put these stories beside my pillow, and then I put one and one together and figured, well what the hell, maybe it would work.”</p>
<p>Raphael looked over the articles with a slightly squeamish air.</p>
<p>
  <em>Honestly, if he thinks this is awkward he should have been around when Trix was born.</em>
</p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>“And it did. He latched on. It's not like I'm a wet nurse, though. It was just a few drops.”</p>
<p>“That couldn't possibly account for your weight loss.”</p>
<p>“But that's it, Raphael. That's all I did. We slept next to each other the rest of the night. End of story.”</p>
<p>“Hey Raph? Um … have you checked your messages lately?”</p>
<p>“I wanted to. I was just about to ask you how, again.”</p>
<p>“You'd better look at this,” said Ella reaching out with the phone as he returned.</p>
<p>“Oh dearie me. I must go. Lucifer is stable on his own for awhile, and there is another emergency. But you, Chloe Decker, must be careful.”</p>
<p>“I'll keep an eye on her,” reassured Ella. “And if anything changes with either of them, I'll let both you <em>and</em> Maze know.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Ella Lopez. I hope I won't be long.”</p>
<p>“So,” Ella said, turning to Chloe. “Let's get to work.”</p>
<p>“On?”</p>
<p>“The Mystery of the Disappearing Pounds.”</p>
<p>“You overheard,” Chloe said flatly.</p>
<p>“Do I not have ears? Besides, Azrael filled me in on the rest. The short story was her idea, but the modern stuff – courtesy of yours truly. So I'm pretty sure I know what happened between you two. Raph's right, though. Four pounds overnight does not make any sense. Let's take a look at his notes so far, and you go ahead and tell me <em>everything</em> that happened.”</p>
<p>“But that's just it, Ella, there's nothing else.”</p>
<p>“So he … <em>disengaged</em> … and you?”</p>
<p>“Wiped off my chest, put on a new t-shirt, lay down next to him-”</p>
<p>“How? In what position?”</p>
<p>“With my back pressed to his side. His arm was out just as it is now and I was right there,” Chloe explained, pointing.</p>
<p>“So it's possible … there was some skin-to-skin contact during the night?”</p>
<p>“Ella, no, we were just sleeping.”</p>
<p>“Chlo, please. Not making judgments here.”</p>
<p>“Sure. Okay. It's <em>possible</em>. It's warm in here. I don't like feeling hot when I'm trying to sleep. For all I know my shirt rode up or I even pulled it up a bit. I've even been known to strip naked at night when I'm broiling and not remember it later, but I actually <em>was</em> wearing my pajamas when I woke up this morning.”</p>
<p>“Good. That's good. Now let's see what we can under the microscope.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>“I forgot how handy it can be having an extra pair of angel shoulders around,” teased Maze, as Michael helped clear another broken column from the path they were taking. “Lucifer hasn't done any heavy lifting like this is a long time.”</p>
<p>“And neither have I,” replied Michael, breathing heavily. “What next?”</p>
<p>“This way … show time up ahead. I can hear a lot of groaning.”</p>
<p>As they approached the clearing, Maze saw that a number of the uninjured demons and souls had managed to set up a field full of cots, filling them with those who were hurt, however, another column destabilized by the initial quake had come crashing down near Charlotte, Dan and the Goddess. Dan had managed to knock Charlotte off her cot to safety before the crash, but Goddess was pinned. The two and some other demons were trying to lever the stone up carefully, but it was proving a trying task.</p>
<p>“Everyone back.”</p>
<p>“Lucifer! You've returned to us victorious,” cried Dromos.</p>
<p>“The battle has yet to be won, but we <em>will</em> persevere. For now, though, we triage. Heaven is in an uproar as well. The Host will not attack soon.”</p>
<p>Michael glanced to Mazikeen for approval, and she nodded with a smirk. Then he braced his hands at one end of the column and began walking it back upright as though it were a tall ladder that he needed to raise against the side of a building. Soon it was leaning harmlessly in the other direction, resting against several of its siblings. He leaned down at his mother's side and whispered into her ear.</p>
<p>“Don't play silly buggers with me, Mum. I know a rock like that couldn't harm you.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Michael in Hell, starring as Lucifer. Now that's an interesting twist.</em>
</p>
<p>He earned the slightest enigmatic smile for his trouble but she continued playing possum. Her children still had a lot to work out. She had set the stage, but it was up to them to figure out their own rules, now.</p>
<p>“So that's how it's going to be. Fine … just bloody, fine,” he said standing and turning toward the group. “Right. I need cell status reports. Food inventories. Mazikeen has a few emergency med supplies in her backpack for those that are the most desperate, and we're expecting more shortly.</p>
<p>“Why are all these souls out? You there – ” he pointed to a soul he recognized from years in Heaven. “What are you doing here?”</p>
<p>“I was with the protesters in Heaven. We took the slide down. Tens of thousands of us, maybe more … sir?”</p>
<p><em>Naturally, </em>sighed Michael. “Well you are in <em>my</em> kingdom now and you will address me with the proper title. I am the Lightbringer, your Lord, and henceforth you will have no other Lords besides me.”</p>
<p>Mazikeen gave him a discrete thumbs up.</p>
<p>“I will need a proper accounting. Lists of souls – both residents and visitors, harmed and unharmed. They may come in handy if we need to bargain with Heaven. … And I want a listing of their former skills and experience. Create a team to look into why the cells are malfunctioning. I need agricultural planners and architects, too, for the long term. We're not underground anymore and the entire ecosystem will have changed. Check the river and see if it's still flowing. If not, we'll need to dig a new source and set up provisions for sanitation. And most importantly, I want to know about my demons – who is hurt, who is still hearty – so I have the full bloody Big Picture. Do I make myself understood?!”</p>
<p>“Of course, my Lord,” replied Lilith, limping toward him from the far end of the field of cots. “All the souls still in the cells are secured now with locks, so we needn't worry about inaccurate counts. Charon will start numbering the souls and recording their skills. Ignatz, start surveying the demons to the south of this field, Belial verify all to the north. Belphgor is minding the food stocks.”</p>
<p>“Is that a wise choice?” asked Michael. Even far away in Heaven, he had heard of that particular demon's legendary appetite.</p>
<p>“You can trust him, Lucifer,” cut in Maze. “I've made sure of it.”</p>
<p>“Very well then. All the rest of you, <b>proceed!</b> … Daniel Espinoza?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Lucifer?”</p>
<p>Michael glared at him until he quailed.</p>
<p>“Yes … <em>Lord</em> Lucifer?”</p>
<p>“You and Mazikeen will take what medical supplies we have and ration them appropriately. Is my Mother's look alike well enough to assist with another task?”</p>
<p>“I am, Lord Lucifer.”</p>
<p>“Excellent. Welcome back, Charlotte Richards. I need you to put together a little real estate purchase contract for me.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>“Okay, see this, right here. This is what I'm talking about.”</p>
<p>Ella was still looking into the eyepiece of the microscope, even though she was pointing vaguely to the computer screen, which magnified the contents on the slide.</p>
<p>“These little guys with the funny little suction-like do-hickeys? They remind me of a structure that's normally found in fungi.”</p>
<p>“Mushrooms?”</p>
<p>“Yep. Yeast, too.”</p>
<p>“And what do you think that means, Ella?”</p>
<p>“Okay … don't get grossed out here, but, remember how Raph said angels have energy-collecting abilities like plants, but Lucifer lost a lot of those.”</p>
<p>“Yes. And then he started eating to compensate.”</p>
<p>“Right. But let's assume all angels predate any of our evolution – predate anything at all on our planet. That might mean they weren't just the model for humans, but parts of them could have been the model for everything. Maybe angels have a little of everything in them, so they can adapt and use whatever mechanism they need to in times of deprivation.”</p>
<p>“<em>Okay</em> ...?”</p>
<p>“So, fungi can't use light directly like plants, and they don't hunt or gather their food like us, obviously. Instead, they stay on one host, and suck the nutrients out. It could either be something organic, but dead, like an old piece of wood. <em>Or</em> the fungi could wriggle their way into the host's cells and suck the nutrients directly out of another living organism – sometimes to the other's detriment.”</p>
<p>“Wait, are you suggesting Lucifer's transformed into some kind of parasitic Angel-Devil vampire creature?”</p>
<p>“Chloe, <em>relax</em>, this is reality.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Not my reality from three years ago!</em>
</p>
<p>“I'm just saying, that he may have been designed with the option as a backup system in times of great need. He's probably not even aware of it.”</p>
<p>“So no blood or soul sucking? No evil intentions?”</p>
<p>“Nope. On the other hand – just guessing from the conformation of these receptors – he probably took a little fat off of you, and <em>you</em> don't have a lot to spare.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Most humans would be happy to sell their immortal souls to the Devil just to get rid of a little unsightly tummy fat.</em>
</p>
<p>“So what you're saying is we need someone – <em>or several someones</em> – who do.”</p>
<p>“Oh my God, this is so amazing! We are going to make a <em>ton </em>of money.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>After testing their theory on Penelope who just wouldn't stop raving about her renewed figure on Wobble, not to mention their little enterprise's promotional YouTube videos, Chloe and Ella recruited Dr. Linda to make it all seem even more professional. Everyone had to wear masks, gloves, and those skimpy little disposable string bikinis that you get at the plastic surgeon's office. Strict appointments were made and kept, and they threw open the large windows to keep fresh air circulating safely. Clients were carefully weighed on arrival, metabolic calculations estimated and reasonable fat loss goals discussed. Still, it was a cash only and due on arrival sort of affair.</p>
<p>For propriety's sake, Chloe had tugged a pair of boxers up and over Lucifer's hips, but he was otherwise left bare to maximize skin contact. After that, each client lay down with him so their backs were touching, and then they just <em>pressed the flesh for a 45-minute sesh </em>with the Devil. It was a great catchphrase that trended as #fleshsesh on Twitter for days. Afterwards, Ella would carefully sterilize Lucifer's skin with alcohol before the next patient took a turn.</p>
<p>
  <em>Really Miss Lopez. Isopropyl? If I'm able to suck the fat straight out of humans, you'd think I could absorb a shot of Macallan directly!</em>
</p>
<p>“I can't believe it,” said Chloe shaking her head and counting out the bills before making a vault deposit. “Lucifer once admitted to 96 sexual partners in eight weeks. Even if there were 96 hours in a <em>day</em>, we'd still have overflow demand for his weight loss services.”</p>
<p><em>Eat your heart out, Jensen Glory</em>.</p>
<p>“How much longer do you think we'll need to keep going?” Linda asked Ella.</p>
<p>“No idea. You?”</p>
<p>Linda only shrugged. “I <em>have</em> noticed he is moving a little more. Nothing major, but occasionally a twitch here, a twitch there. I think that's a good sign.”</p>
<p>It was.</p>
<p>Just one week later, The King of Hell rose again. Just simply yawned, stretched his arms over his head, sat up and --</p>
<p>“What is that jaw-droppingly, mouth-wateringly<em> delicious </em>smell?”</p>
<p>“Pastrami on rye. Take out from Canter's … Lucifer, you're awake!!!” cried Linda.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p>
<p>Just one chapter left, and then the epilogue!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Recto Verso</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Before he left for Tarzana, Raphael took the stairs from Lucifer's library down to the fourteenth floor of the hotel.</p><p>“Dr. Linda Martin, do you have a moment?”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>She showed him to the sitting room of her suite, where he took a seat on the couch while she sat in the armchair opposite him.</p><p>“How can I help?”</p><p>“I am having a problem with my thoughts.”</p><p>“Tell me.”</p><p>“When my brother Lucifer fell, his cry of pain echoed through the universe. It is still painful for me to even contemplate the sound now, so many millennia later.</p><p>“You see, for angels or at least for many of us, what we are is not so much a choice. Mother and Father did not just take a look at their brood and say, you should go to medical school or you should become a scribe. Instead they decided we need a Healer, and then they made me. I feel that calling down to my bones.”</p><p>“Go on.”</p><p>“When Lucifer fell, I not only wanted to answer his cry for help, I <em>needed </em>to.”</p><p>“But you didn't. Why was that?”</p><p>“Because Father forbade us. All of us. And as far as I know, that order still stands, but this time, when my sister became aware of what was happening with Chloe Decker's daughter, and I heard Lucifer's prayer to come quickly in case he failed, I acted in accord with my heart.”</p><p>“I would say that's a good thing. But how do you feel about it?”</p><p>“I <em>do </em>feel I acted correctly, even though I've been able to help him very little so far, and the child was ultimately fine. But now I'm faced with a different challenge. Hell is in a state of catastrophe. Many of the souls are in need of medical attention.”</p><p>“I assume that won't be a problem for you.”</p><p>“No. It's the demons I'm worried about. I've never attended to a demon.”</p><p>“Are they so very different biologically from the rest of us?”</p><p>“I do not believe so.”</p><p>“You're worried about the fact that they don't have souls, then?”</p><p>“You knew?”</p><p>“Maze is my best friend. … Why does it bother you that they don't have souls?”</p><p>She expected he might say something about abominations.</p><p>“I am afraid that if I fail … if I do something inadvertently that kills one, that will be it. That demon will be lost forever.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Outside Hell and Heaven's Gates, the humans continued their vigil, and though none of them really understood why, they felt compelled to build a makeshift altar and place offerings on it. At first, it was simple stuff – a bouquet of wildflowers, a few candles, a handful of spare coins, but as the days passed, the tins of homemade Rice Krispie treats, pot brownies and previously horded items from earlier in the pandemic such as toilet paper and paper towels piled up. One incredibly generous and devout person left a container of still highly coveted Clorox wipes. Despite the fact that these items sat for days, no one dared plunder the gifts.</p><p>“You know,” said Dromos to Eve. “This is quite a bit better than any burnt offering we've ever received before. Seems a shame to let it all just sit there. What if it begins to rain on those paper goods?”</p><p>A pickup van from the Los Angeles ReStore pulled up into the Budget Hut parking lot and a disgruntled driver clilmbed out. Left staffless thanks to the new plague, The Habitat for Humanity had been turning away gifts because the organization couldn't process donations, yet some wiseass contractor who thought he was more important than God recently left a pile of extra building materials outside the front door. Naturally, Streets and San insisted the charity clean up anything on the public way, so here he was driving the 10 to the landfill in Burbank when he felt a magnetic pull, turned around until he reached the 405 and continued up to Tarzana. He couldn't explain it, and he wouldn't even try when asked by reporters from as far as San Diego, Palo Alto and Eureka, but he neatly stacked a pile of seventy-three 2 x 6s, a bucket of nails and two unopened pro packs of Onduline panels near the altar with the dessert treats and toilet paper. He even included a couple of ReStore employee t-shirts that were sitting on the passenger side of the front cabin for good measure.</p><p>Eve watched the van pull away, and she considered Dromos' words.</p><p>“Hey you. Yeah you – Angel #3.”</p><p>“What is it you want Mother of Humans?”</p><p>“Please go get Adam. I want to speak with him.”</p><p>The angel sighed, but complied. For reasons he still didn't understand this particular human was considered a VIP in Heaven.</p><p>Adam was not so different looking from his first born, tall and wide with well-muscled arms sculpted not by God but by centuries of hard work and toil. The last few decades since ESPN had arrived in Heaven, however, had contributed a bit of spare tire to his midsection.</p><p>“What is it, Eve?”</p><p>“Adam, I need your help?”</p><p>“What for?”</p><p>“We need to build a habitat, but not just for humanity.”</p><p>“Why would I want to help you? You left me.”</p><p>“I left to visit our sons, Adam. They're here in Hell, and they need our help – they need their <em>father</em>. But it's not just Cain and Abel.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“There are demons here, too. Children of yours.”</p><p>Adam's brow wrinkled until he parsed it through. “Lilith was able to—”</p><p>“Yes. … Children of yours, also displaced from their birthright in Eden. I think they would very much like to meet their father.”</p><p>“Why would they?”</p><p>“So they can understand the other side of the story. The other half that makes them who they are. So they can realize all they have in common with all the other humans, both living and not.”</p><p>“How could I even help, anyway? I'm in Heaven now.”</p><p>“Adam, we're not <em>dead</em>. You and I can still walk the Earth, but the souls <em>can't</em>, and there are thousands who came down from Heaven after the protests. They're trapped here now. And Lucifer has forbidden the demons to walk the Earth … however, there is a way they could still come visit their father in Heaven. <em>We</em> can build that bridge.”</p><p>“How?”</p><p>“Right now, there are only two things in the way. Those angel guards and a missing linkage – a covered shelter between these two gates joining Heaven to Hell, making them one.</p><p>“Adam, we really messed it up our first time around in so many ways. Think about how we favored Abel; how you taught Cain to run from his guilt. <em>This </em>could be the path to making it right. For <em>everyone</em>.”</p><p>“We will need tools,” said Adam.</p><p>“I think I know where to find a few saws.”</p><p>“And I will retrieve a hammer.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>The manager at the Tarzana Walgreens was about to call security because some cuckoo had filled ten shopping carts with band-aids, first-aid kits, medicines and all kinds of baked goods from the snack aisle, lining them up at the front of the store. Before she could dial, however, he came up to the register.</p><p>“I would like to know if you have any additional bandages in stock.”</p><p>“Um … let me check our inventory,” the woman said, making a few quick keystrokes on her keyboard. “We have two cases of the pre-infused with anti-bacterial type in back.”</p><p>“I'll take them both.”</p><p>“Okay. And what about all those carts?”</p><p>“Oh those, too, of course.”</p><p>“Did you want that boxed and delivered?”</p><p>“Yes please.”</p><p>“Address?”</p><p>“Right over there,” he pointed through the automatic glass door. “Do you see those two people building the shelter?”</p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Actually, people had been coming in for days and buying items to leave on the altar. They finally got rid of all the rose scented candles left over from Valentine's Day.</p><p>“Form of payment?”</p><p>Raphael handed the woman a copy of his brother's corporate credit card, which Maze had directed him to in her emergency text, and the cashier rang up the sale.</p><p>“Sign here, please, Mr. Morningstar.”</p><p>Raphael took the first cart himself and started pushing it across the street toward the Zany Wings sign.</p><p>“I require assistants,” he said to the six angel guards that were blocking the entrance to Heaven. “Come with me.”</p><p>The guards may have been unwilling to take orders from a demon or even a suggestion from an average soul, but they would not say no to the Silver City's only Healer. What would happen if they slighted him, and then they needed an anti-itch cream next molting season?</p><p>-0-</p><p>Lucifer wanted to pull out all the stops on his first evening back as an active member in the land of the living. Both Linda and Chloe tried to caution him to take it easy, but he just wasn't having it. He knew he'd have to return to Hell soon enough, but surely he and the Detective could have one night together. So many restaurants were closed, and those with outdoor dining were too noisy for his taste, so he booked the entire room at CUT for his first real date with Chloe.</p><p>“Lucifer, I don't even have anything here to wear. I didn't pack for this sort of occasion.”</p><p>“Don't worry Detective, I have the perfect ensemble for you.”</p><p>He was already half dressed in his tux, when he reached up to the top shelf above his dress shirts. “I don't understand. I was sure I tucked it away up here for safe keeping.”</p><p>“Tucked what up there?”</p><p>“The red satin dress. Maybe Eve--”</p><p>Suddenly, he felt faint, buckling at the knees. Chloe ran quickly and supported him under the arm. “C'mon, let's get you over to the bed.”</p><p>“<em>Detective!</em>” he said in the lecherous register he used with just about any fine body with a pulse. “We haven't even had a proper first date.”</p><p>“And we won't unless you take it slowly. Do you really want to make a nose dive into a side of mashed potatoes?”</p><p>She struggled under his weight but reached the bed and was helping him to scoot back against the pillows.</p><p>“It would be a challenge, but I'd still make that look good.”</p><p>“Uh-huh.”</p><p>That evening he accepted her offer of a grilled ham and egg sandwich on Hawaiian bread, but while she was puttering around in the kitchen putting it together, he speed dialed Eric Bost, who still owed him a favor for financing the recently shuttered Auburn. By the next evening, he and Chloe were dining on the penthouse terrace, a feast of <em>confit</em> of duck served with potatoes roasted in goose grease and a thick slice of sauteed <em>fois gras</em> on the side.</p><p>“Can I bring you anything else, Ms. Decker?” asked Bost.</p><p>“A roto-rooter to clear out my arteries?”</p><p>“Mr. Morningstar did say to pack in the calories," said the chef, clearly amused. He'd warned Lucifer ahead of time. "I've a full-cream, <em>verveine gelato</em> or an extra dark <em>mousse au chocolat</em> for dessert as well.”</p><p>“We may need you to prepare a separate menu for Chloe and the rest of our friends in the coming days. Something a little lighter for the others.”</p><p>“As you wish.”</p><p>Yet even with Alain Ducasse's student catering to his caloric needs, it still wasn't enough. A moment after the chef walked away, Chloe glanced over at Lucifer and discovered he'd already fallen asleep in his chair.</p><p>After two days, he felt sufficiently fit to stretch his wings in the dojo, and assumed that in another day, he'd be well enough to return to his demons. But just 20 minutes of exercise led to the consumption of a box of powerbars to recover. Later that night, when Chloe spooned up behind him and reached her hand over his hip toward his cock, he found himself without enough energy to reciprocate her awkward but nonetheless very welcome hand job. In the past, that kind of weakness would have been unthinkable, even <em>after</em> a week-long orgy interspersed with psychedelic edibles.</p><p>“<em>Detective, y</em>ou must understand, it's not you, it's me, but it's not <em>normal </em>for me.”</p><p>“Look, we've been dancing around this for so many years now. I've just come to accept there is never going to be a perfect time. All I care about is that there will be a <em>next</em> time.”</p><p>He wanted to promise her that there would be a lifetime of next times, but he couldn't say it now, anymore than he could bring himself to tell her he loved her on the penthouse balcony after the Mayan incident. Because he knew he would still have to leave. And this time it wasn't just to keep the demons in line. It was to make amends for all the pain he had caused them.</p><p>At the two-week mark, he finally felt balanced enough to let his lips travel for hours about the length and breadth of Chloe's taut body without actually passing out on top of her. She tended to drowse after an orgasm or three, and while she slumbered (loudly), he took the opportunity to wander about the penthouse, touching books and scrolls he hadn't seen in months, pouring himself a scotch, running a finger softly over the keys of his piano and taking a peek into his safe. Chloe had said the cash earned from the Tribe's little foray into weight management was considerable, and frankly, he was curious. He tapped in the combination and opened the door, and there sitting toward the back of the top shelf, he noticed a familiar fancy little plumb-sized vial. Naturally, that was round about the time Maze returned and wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp for leaving her high and dry two years ago.</p><p>-0-</p><p>“Lucifer, or should I say, my Lord?”</p><p>“What is it, Frank? Although we knew each other only briefly on Earth, it was still enough for me to consider you my friend. Titles aren't necessary between us.”</p><p>“Mery and I would like to begin visiting the cells that are currently locked.”</p><p>“You want to begin that experiment that Charlotte Richards was telling me about?”</p><p>“In a sense, yes. But there's so much work to do outside the cells anyway … perhaps their participation could be mutually valuable. Surely if a hell loop hasn't brought a soul any closer to absolution after a thousand years, it's worth trying something a little different.”</p><p>“I agree. Just be sure that each soul released has someone keeping an eye on him or her. And even if they are allowed this lassitude, they still return to their cells at the end of day. I will need proof of rehabilitation and redemption before release.”</p><p>“You can count on me.”</p><p>“Also, I don't want you entering Cain's cell … or Kinley's. I have yet to decide what is to be done with them.”</p><p>Thankfully, nightly before her departure, Maze had tutored Michael on those names Lucifer would have known well. She was a stern taskmaster, and yet he missed her reassurance keenly. Since Chloe had texted that Lucifer's recovery was proceeding, they all needed to coordinate future plans, and there was still so much that Lucifer didn't even realize. Amenadiel was trying to calm all of Heaven, which was about as effective as Amenadiel trying to catch chickens without slowing time. The angels had all flown the coop – literally – when Heaven went tumbling, so none of them were hurt, but now they were plucking themselves haphazardly, trying to fix all the injuries of the scrambled souls without Heaven's Healer to advise them on proper procedure or precautions. Hell, on the other hand, through sheer bloody will and considerable labor on the part of humans, demons and angels, was coming along.</p><p>Adam, Abel and Eve had unpacked all the various seed species that were a part of Trixie's Mars colonization school project, and with the help of numerous souls were clearing rocks and turning ground in preparation for planting. Not just food crops, either, but ornamental gardens and open wildflower fields of all sorts in the hopes of supporting additional insect and animal species. Raphael and his new six nurses patched and sewed bodies for days, and though there had been a few close calls with some of the demons that had been injured and trapped beneath rocks during the initial earthquake, Raph never hesitated to lay waste to his wings as though his very own soul depended on the survival of the others. For the time being at least, they had adequate stocks of food. And outside altar donations included an impressive collection of garments Daniel Espinoza referred to as “ugly Christmas sweaters.” But the most intriguing offering of all, was a gifted party rental vehicle entitled the <em>Bus Ta Move</em>, left behind when the owner decided to shell out his last $100K for a new passport to some tiny covid19-free island in the Caribbean.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Maze had always handled logistics, damage control and covering his bum. It shouldn't have surprised him that the entire time he was incapacitated, she'd not only analyzed the situation in Hell, discovered Cain's master Hell loop, installed a fake him on the throne and had the entire plane on the mend. It was really a pity he couldn't abdicate in her favor, but unfortunately that small detail about Hell being ruled by a celestial was not something that Cain had fabricated.</p><p>“What about this one?”</p><p>“Too schmaltzy. … <em>Who</em> in Heaven could ever have thought that was a good idea?!”</p><p>“This?” tried Maze again.</p><p>“Too douchey.”</p><p>“Well, I don't know. Just pick one, then.”</p><p>Exasperated, Lucifer finally closed his eyes, put his hand out in front of him, waved it about a bit and grabbed a hanger.</p><p>“This is going to make me look like some sort of 1930s hood ornament.”</p><p>“You look good in silver.”</p><p>“<em>Really</em>?” he perked up. “Do you think Chloe might like me in it for occasional roleplay? It's very 'And the Sons of God came in unto the daughters of men,' isn't it?”</p><p>“The question <em>is</em>, can you keep it together long enough to convince all of Heaven and Hell just as well as Michael's done playing <em>you</em> for the past weeks?”</p><p>“Easy peasy, analeezy.”</p><p>“Accent!”</p><p>“Right,” he said, closing his eyes, pinching his fingers together and centering himself.</p><p>“Shall we?” he asked with his brother's American nasal, I've-got-a-used-car-I-think-you're-gonna-like tone.</p><p>He stripped off the simple robe he'd used to walk into Heaven earlier, hoping not to draw attention, donned Michael's formal-commanding-yet-not-quite-special-occasion robe, and Maze started attaching his armor and decorations. She buckled Michael's heavy leather scabbard about his brother's waist, and carefully slid the sword into place; finally, she wrapped the long elaborate straps of his sandals up his calves and they returned to the gate.</p><p>“Oooo, Extreme Strength THC organic fruit gummies,” noted Lucifer quietly to Maze as they passed the altar and continued through the newly completed corridor. “You know I've never understood my father's taste for worship, but I have to admit, the offerings lately are quite pleasing. … Much better than dead entrails.”</p><p>“You'll have to fight Eve for those. She called dibs,” said Charon from just inside Heaven's Gate.</p><p>“I would <em>never</em> pollute my sacred temple,” Lucifer deadpanned, while running a palm down his torso, “with such <em>empty</em> pleasures.”</p><p>Gabriel, Remiel, Haniel, Raguel and Jophiel following behind all looked appropriately disturbed by the thought as well.</p><p>“Is our Lord ready for Heaven's emissary … and his <em>support staff</em>?” asked Maze, jerking her head toward the angelic entourage behind them.</p><p>“He is, and all are assembled.”</p><p>Maze led Lucifer toward the open field where the cots numbered far fewer now than they had several weeks ago. The demons were gathered as well and Lilith, now healed, stood front and center. Raphael still remained with his nurses as witnesses to this negotiation, but he could not hold himself back when he saw Lucifer awake for the first time in millennia.</p><p>“Brother,” he embraced him, “It is so good to see you hearty. Hell's attack must have sapped your strength.”</p><p>“It did, but I was well-cared for,” replied Lucifer. “I would have been pleased to see your face when I woke, Raphael, but I understand you were representing our interests. And I thank you for your dedication to your calling in the face of hostile forces.”</p><p>Raphael pulled back and looked purposefully into Lucifer's eyes. “You will never understand the depth of my remorse that I wasn't there when you needed me more.”</p><p>Lucifer pulled him closer as he lowered his voice so that none could overhear. “Having been turned into a charred husk by the same Father who clipped your wings, there is nothing I understand more than the desire for self preservation. Let us see if we cannot turn those harsh lessons to good use now.”</p><p>“Of course,” Raph whispered, before raising his voice once again to the crowd. “Michael, I believe you have a proposal for our brother The King of Hell.”</p><p>Michael was sitting on Lucifer's throne. Not the high one but a duplicate designed for full audiences. He leaned artfully to one side, legs crossed, casually watching his twin as though looking into some distorted mirror.</p><p>“I do. … Once again, <em>Lucifer</em>,” Lucifer began, turning toward his twin and emphasizing Michael's slight slouch and wider stance, “you have attacked Heaven, upended the lives of the Host, and caused chaos to –quite literally – spill across the Earth.”</p><p>Not surprisingly, there was a fair amount of growling and hissing from the crowd, and Lucifer allowed just the right amount of time for the tension in the clearing to theatrically build.</p><p>“And now that you and your minions have the audacity to link Heaven and Hell, as though the two could ever be equivalent, as though one ever deserved to be a part of or even merit the attention of the other, I am hereby commanding you to yield any claims you have on either plane to the Archangel Michael. If it can be said of any of His sons, “Who is like God?” would it not be logical to presume it be he who is still presiding and protecting over all in Heaven?”</p><p>A number of the angels behind Lucifer nodded to themselves.</p><p>Michael sighed as though dealing with amateurs was his personal cross to bear, and slowly rose from his throne. “Logical, perhaps, but legal?” He began to walk forward toward Lucifer through scads of souls that parted for him as the Red Sea for Moses. “<em>That </em>is the question.”</p><p>“I carry with me the full Force of The Laws of Heaven, and you would dare to quibble with me, <em>Adversary</em>?”</p><p>“You may huff and puff all you like, Michael, but at the end of the day, <em>you owe me</em>,” answered Michael with a smirk.</p><p>“What? I have never made a deal with the Devil,” said Lucifer truthfully.<br/>
“No, Brother, you haven't. You owe me no favor, but you and all your Kingdom are my tenant now. You owe me <em>rent</em>!”</p><p>“That is preposterous!”</p><p>“Ms. Richards, would you kindly show the overly exalted Archangel Michael the paperwork.”</p><p>“Yes, of course, Lord Lucifer,” smiled Charlotte reaching out to Lucifer with a velum scroll wrapped in red leather. She handed an identical scroll to Gabriel, “You can keep that copy for your records, by the way.”</p><p>Lucifer scanned the papers, the tiniest of smiles playing at his lips. “You think you can control the fate of Heaven because you purchased two parking lots?!”</p><p>“Not <em>just</em> the parking lots … I own the flea bag motel and the chicken shack, too, now. They will make excellent training grounds for my demons to learn to interact with the humans on earth. And the <em>Bus Ta Move</em>, well, that just offers <em>endless </em>possibilities for human-demon relations.”</p><p>“It's bad enough Adam has already brought some of Lilith's mutts through Heaven's Gates,” Lucifer said, playing up the outrage. “You would willingly let demons loose upon the Earth?”</p><p>“Everyone deserves a little vacation time from Hell now and then. I, more than anyone know that far too well, and in these recent times of crisis, my eyes have been opened to the demons' needs. They have proven their loyalty and worthiness admirably.”</p><p>“Unacceptable!”</p><p>“You can offer an alternative plan?” asked Michael.</p><p>“The demons know more about humanity than many of our angels. If they are now going to live on Earth, they, too, must learn to walk among humans. If your demons can agree to share their knowledge, they may have safe passage throughout the Silver City and regular access to Eden,” proposed Lucifer. “Let them train there with our many unencumbered souls to guide them and then move on to this … <em>Zany Wings </em>as a final test.”</p><p>“That <em>might</em> be acceptable. What say you Lilith?”</p><p>“Heaven must be prepared to repatriate its souls that descended upon us without warning. They have been helpful, and we are grateful, however, we cannot support them indefinitely. They, and any others are free to visit, however.”</p><p>“We would never keep a worthy soul out of Heaven,” affirmed Lucifer.</p><p>“That's good, because you will need to prepare yourself to accept redeemed ones as well. We will be working harder than ever toward that goal,” Lilith said. “Though our plane is no longer constrained by the same limits as before we still do not wish it to become an ever growing prison. Hell will remain finite.</p><p>“If the angels can accept all that and visits to Eden will become our right, my children and I agree.”</p><p>“Michael?” asked Michael in his most tempting Lucifer-like voice.</p><p>“We concur.”</p><p>“Excellent. Now that we've squared all that, there's only the question of your annual rent.”</p><p>“What?! Did we not just broker a deal of cooperation?” asked Lucifer in outrage.</p><p>“We did, but that was aside from the rent. It was only an agreement on the movement of demons and souls.”</p><p>“You are <em>such</em> a Satan<em>!</em>” cried Lucifer.</p><p>“As I suspect it will take you lot a fair amount of time to get all trained up and productive, you may pay your annual rent in full for the first year with one small act.”</p><p>Lucifer sighed heavily, “What is it?”</p><p>“You have always had the power to create something from nothing, while I can only refine what is already in place. Likewise, you should be able to reverse any action of creation.”</p><p>“What would you have me unmake?”</p><p>“This miserable miasma of smoke and ash above us is a relic of my agony and is constantly aggravated by the self-torture of the captive souls. There is nothing I can change it into that would be beneficial. But if you unmake it now, we may begin again – grow as though in a terrarium with all the starlight from above visible to us, just as it has always been in Heaven.”</p><p>Lucifer looked to Gabriel who was rapidly scanning the purchase contract, hoping to find some kind of loophole. When he came to the bottom, he looked up with a sorry shrug.</p><p>“Though I have signed no lease, it would seem it's true that Heaven is impinging on what is rightfully yours now,” Lucifer said. “Your only sin is that you've been far too clever. It would seem, I have no choice but to comply.”</p><p>“Let us be clear that there <em>is</em> a choice, Brother,” Michael insisted. “It is only that you are making the most just and equitable one at long last. If Hell had not been left as the repository of only the damaged souls, this chaos would not have unfolded. Heaven is finally choosing not to turn a blind eye to all the unpleasantness that was abandoned in its basement, and will now share in its responsibilities to all.”</p><p>“Agreed,” Lucifer said. “It seems our new geography has put us all on an equivalent footing.”</p><p>Lucifer lifted his hands upwards with grand swirling gestures as he had seen his twin do so many times, and Michael discretely snapped his fingers behind his back to consummate the act that vanished the roiling clouds, ensuring a permanent light for Hell at last. The two twins approached and bowed to each other formally; an embrace would have to wait until later once the stage lights had dimmed on their performance, and they could both return to their normal roles. But it had been ages since they had created something new together, and although <em>this</em> creation required little of the divine power they'd expended when forming the stars, they both still felt every bit euphoric about its birth.</p><p>The cheers of souls and demons alike echoed through the plane for hours.</p><p>And when night fell and the crowds were growing weary from the celebrations and feasting, a not-so-sleepy Goddess of All Creation woke at long last and stood beside her cot. She gazed up at the starry sky and smiled, “Well done, my Sons.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Though Trixie was a dab hand at all manner of kid creativity, truth be told, arts and crafts were never Chloe's strong suit. Nonetheless, two years ago, she had made a promise to her mother, to herself, to Lucifer and to the rest of the planet that she was going to do this. So she sat herself down, watched some YouTube videos, assembled her materials and got to work.</p><p>“What are you making, Mom?” asked Trixie.</p><p>“Oh, I thought I might put together a little scrapbook diary of my trip to Europe.”</p><p>It was really quite a lot more, though. It was the thesis that Penelope had challenged her to compose, written out by hand with bottled ink and calligraphy nibs on parchment. Chloe had fired up the color printer as well, sized her vacation and Internet research photos carefully to fit into the areas she had left white on the pages, and was trimming them so she could illustrate her treatise.</p><p>Up until that moment it had been entirely a testament to her hard work, concrete research, interviews and analytic thought, but as Goddess caught wind of the creation in progress that starred her Lightbringer, she sent a little extra inspiration Chloe's way, and the Detective pulled out a small hammer and a set of alphabet engraving tools and prepared to stamp her title on a buttery rectangle of blood red kidskin leather that would eventually wrap around the sets of parchment folios. Chloe had originally thought it would only be a single line, but then decided to add a second.</p><p>-0-</p><p>Michael and Lilith were invited back to Heaven the next morning to officially sign the decrees, and when the formalities were over, Lucifer invited them both back to Michael's nest in the Forest of Tree. Maze had pulled no punches when it came to informing the true King of Hell of her mother's complicity with Cain. Lucifer found he didn't have it in him to dish out a serving of punishment, though. How, after all, could he hold her accountable for fighting for her own children's lives, when that was precisely what he'd wanted from his own mother after his father cast him out of Heaven?</p><p>“Maze said the silver was a good look on me, however, I'm rather eager to step back into a pair of trousers and a waistcoat.”</p><p>“She liked the silver?” asked Michael innocently, but there was never a chance of hiding from Lucifer any thought with a hint of desire in it.</p><p>“Indeed, she did. Wait a minute … is <em>someone</em> already planning a secret rendez-vous in Eden?”</p><p>Michael blushed and looked down.</p><p>“Ohhh, there's just <em>so</em> much I could tell you, Brother. Where shall we begin … positions? proclivities? pressure points?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“<em>No</em>?”</p><p>“No. Just let me navigate this on my own.”</p><p>“Fine. I'll back off. … You're right, actually. Navigate nothing. Let Maze take the lead. She won't disappoint.”</p><p>“Yes, I've already noted she's a brilliant commander.”</p><p>“I'll be expecting a suitable offering for my daughter, Michael,” interjected Lilith. “It may be outdated among the humans, but we demons are traditional in that way.”</p><p>“Would you have me send a herd of goats?”</p><p>“We can <em>begin</em> our negotiations from there,” she smirked</p><p>“Relax, Brother, she's only pulling your leg. But consider the shovel talk well and truly delivered by me. She <em>can</em> be hurt, and I would know because I'm the one guilty of having done it.”</p><p>Lucifer stepped into the bedroom to change his clothes, and when he reentered Michael's sitting room, Goddess was standing in the entryway. “Oh, my precious boys,” she exclaimed and gently cupped a palm to one of each of their cheeks. Lucifer remembered the last moment he had seen her in Charlotte's body and how she had done the same then. How she had told him that she would miss him so much, and how he couldn't find the words to respond, hurt as he still was by her previous manipulations. Now, though, as time had passed, he found he could only see her as the lovely yet inexperienced mother she was to him so many eons ago in this very Tree.</p><p>Michael closed his eyes and basked in the warmth of her touch, but Lucifer just didn't understand how she could be there.</p><p>“How is this possible? Is Father <em>still </em>messing with realities? He said it was having consequences for Earth and Hell and … is he so displeased with what Michael and I have done?”</p><p>“As to the first question, your Detective cried out for an intervention the day you killed Cain, and I exercised my divine muscles to get back here to help. With regard to the rest … you and Michael could not have done better. If only your Father could learn from your methods as I did when you sent me through the void. You can't go backwards to correct your mistakes. You can only move forward, having <em>learned</em> from them.”</p><p>“But you loathe humans, Mother, <em>and</em> demons. Why would you admire what we'd done?”</p><p>“I don't loathe <em>all</em> humans. … <em>Or</em> demons,” she added the last nodding to Lilith.</p><p>“Thanks, I think?”</p><p>“Daniel was my favorite, but I told you when I was here last that I had come to admire your Detective.”</p><p>“You only said that to manipulate me.”</p><p>“I <em>did</em> say it to you for that reason, but I also believed it was true. And since then, I've met the real Charlotte Richards, who is an <em>absolute gem</em> – I wonder if she were like that before I borrowed her body or if she grew because of it? Not to mention a number of other souls along the way on this adventure to get you and Chloe back together. Demons, too. I was impressed by the way they worked together in Hell – at least, on my recent visit.</p><p>“I can tell you this, though, your Father <em>was</em> switching up realities and it was all tied to you and Chloe.”</p><p>“So he<em> was</em> using her to get me back to Hell.”</p><p>“He <em>did </em>want you to focus on your duties, however, the part we all got wrong was that Chloe was never meant for you at all.”</p><p>“But he pretty much admitted to me the two of us keep ending up together in every reality.”</p><p>“Which bothered him to no end, because <em>Chloe</em> was meant to redeem <em>Cain</em>.”</p><p>“So … Ella Lopez was correct, and Chloe actually <em>was</em> destined to marry the overgrown manham and pop out a dozen Pecker babies?” asked Michael, sounding horrified.</p><p>“And I ruined his chance for a boring eternity in Heaven?”</p><p>“Yes. … You clearly threw a spanner into the works where all that was concerned,” said God who had slipped into the room when none of the others were watching. He'd chosen a form taller than any of his sons with an appropriate breadth of stature to match. His skin tone and shiny bald head were reminiscent of Amenadiel's, but his clothing was more like something the faux Sinnerman would have worn. Decidedly grandfather, c. 1982. He looked like the type of bland fellow one would hire to do a homeowner's insurance advert. “Over and over and over.”</p><p>“No, Husband. Chloe was the one who messed up your plan with her free will. <em>She</em> chose Lucifer again and again because she could appreciate him for what he was … and see him for what he was becoming. Has become now.”</p><p>“The landlord of Heaven?”</p><p>“No,” said God, sounding as if he were seriously considering boxing Lucifer on the ears. “A <em>responsible person</em>. … One who could transform the clay you were handed into something even better. Not just for your pleasure but for the benefit of all. And though it wasn't exactly the way I'd planned it, you and Michael stumbled upon the answer I was always seeking. I would never be able to repair my relationship with humanity by trying to fix things with just Cain. What I should have been doing all along is trying to fix things directly between us, repair the rifts in our own family first. You two shed Light on that.”</p><p>“Wait a minute, is this all about you preparing to pass the buck on the 14-billion-year question?!” Lucifer asked.</p><p>“<em>What</em> 14-billion-year question?”</p><p>“Don't worry, Michael, you have a bit of time yet to figure it out,” God said.</p><p>Michael made an exasperated sound worthy of his twin.</p><p>“Apparently Dad ruined the chances for any future Big Bangs, because he's been replaying the time line over and over.”</p><p>“No, no. It was already mucked up earlier.”</p><p>“Husband, how did you realize?”</p><p>“You scoffed at omniscience once because you wanted to enjoy the moment, but my imperative – thanks to your design – has always been to protect the brood. To concern myself with their futures. I traveled far enough that I could see how it would end, and <em>that's</em> when I realized it wasn't quite going as it should to fit all back together and compact. I <em>had</em> to make changes. So I watched carefully as humanity developed on Earth, and when the time was right I chose Lilith for Adam.”</p><p>“And I didn't want to play a role in your evolutionary experiment if Adam could not respect me as his equal.”</p><p>“So then I fashioned Eve, but she gave up what we may have accomplished in Eden for Lucifer.”</p><p>“She didn't give it up for me. She gave it up because she, too, wanted to choose for herself.”</p><p>“But then there came Abel, and so many more. And they were finite. Their souls should have been joining the rest of the spiritual ecosystem, just as those of a butterfly or a demon or even a blade of grass when it dies. Just as Goddess had always intended. The cycle of Life and Death and Rebirth, all matter and energy of every sort recycled and conserved, but I didn't want to let them go. They were only steps on a very long journey, and yet I loved them as they were. When I traveled again to see how it would end, I saw that as more of them entered the afterlife, the chance for another universe was growing even less likely.”</p><p>“Wait a minute. Back up. Demons don't <em>have</em> souls,” Lucifer said.</p><p>“Of course they do, Son,” Goddess explained. “All life does. There just never was a question of where they would go.”</p><p>“Once upon a time three angels chased me through the fields and forests, calling me a 'soulless demon,' because they heard their Father refer to me that way in his anger. It was a slur then, but it quickly became fact for many.” Lilith added. “Children will believe just about anything their parents tell them, if they begin their education early enough. But it should have been obvious to everyone for a long time – how else could my children have managed possession without a soul to send topside?”</p><p>“Despite those issues with Lilith, I came to believe that<em> Cain</em> was the key,” continued God. “<em>He</em> caused the irreversible reaction that needed to be undone. Even you, Lucifer, thought that might be important to resolving Cain's situation when you pulled Abel out of Hell. Everything before that with Eve or Lilith could be reversed. Either could have eventually returned to Eden – or both – and my plan proceed, but once Cain killed Abel, it seemed the effect on the universe could not be easily altered. That's why I marked him. To allow me the time to somehow figure out how to bring Cain back to goodness. If I could do that, I thought all would be well.”</p><p>“But it never could.”</p><p>“I know you have more experience with the cycles, Wife, but how can you be so certain?”</p><p>“Because the difference in the universe didn't just begin with Cain or Lucifer or Lilith or Eve. The difference was that I made <em>you</em>.”</p><p>“So there is no hope then,” said Michael. “We simply must enjoy our time and make the most of it.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” Goddess pondered, “but perhaps not.”</p><p>“<em>Mum</em>? Just because I'm still bloody furious with him, doesn't mean I'll let you end him.”</p><p>Goddess rolled her eyes. “Not end. Just <em>leave</em>. Leave and make more room for <em>all</em> our creations to grow. We've done what we can to give our children the tools to tinker. Now it's up to them to decide what comes next.”</p><p>“So that's it?! You <em>are</em> passing the buck. But not just Dad – both of you?”</p><p>“You wanted to be your own man. Now you get to do it without any parental judgment <em>or</em> interference,” reasoned God. “Why make children, after all, if not to share in the workload?”</p><p>“But what if I don't <em>want</em> to rule the universe?” Lucifer whinged. “You know that business about absolute power corrupting absolutely.”</p><p>“You don't <em>have </em>absolute power, <em>Partner,” </em>said Michael, nudging his brother in the shoulder and laughing. “But you do have a better moral compass than most have given you credit for. “You cared about the humans longer than any of us. Demons, too. And you laid the foundation for a working order in Hell eons ago. All the sibs were still smarting from the Rebellion to admit it back then, but they were impressed by the stories of what you'd accomplished when the first souls finally rushed into Heaven. Who would have guessed that a single human could have messed up all that you'd built?”</p><p>“If I had an obol for every time I ask myself that question ...” said God.</p><p>“I bet you'd have more money than Lucifer,” smiled Lilith.</p><p>-0-</p><p>As he was zipping along the 101 in his Corvette, a lit cigarette in hand, a memory flashed through Lucifer's mind.</p><p>
  <em>I'd rather return to the fires of Hell than spend a night in Tarzana.</em>
</p><p>“And in the bloody honeymoon suite of the Budget Hut, no less. Utterly preposterous. That's obviously the only reason you chose to stick with this reality,” he uttered skyward, even though it could hardly be considered the likely direction of his Father any longer.</p><p>When he pulled into the parking lot, however, he saw that Chloe and the Urchin were already sitting in the outdoor seating area of the Zany Wings, wearing the stylish Tom Ford face masks he'd ordered up for them. He waved from the car and sent the Detective a text.</p><p>Old Scratch: Meet you soon. Appointment with Cain, first.</p><p>As he passed through the Gates of Hell, he gave the broken sign a glare and continued on. Thing was it wasn't really Hell, anymore. More like the East Wing of Heaven. The Fun wing, where all the cool people hung out. Not that it didn't still house the cells of the damned, but at least everyone else had phone reception and WiFi in the corridors.</p><p>“Dromos, Squee? Start taking up suggestions for a new name for the motel. I like the new stonework and the twee little shutters, by the way, but make sure to book an appointment with my brother Michael to disappear the macadam from the parking lot. Find a team that can suggest some kind of Earth friendly treatment to make it greener. Build a fence, too – schist, of course – to shelter us from the road. And consult with Eve about growing more out there. If I'm going to have to drive in to Tarzana each day for work, I want it to look far less suburban American strip mall and much more Hanging Gardens of Babylon.”</p><p>“Of course, Lucifer.”</p><p>“Charlotte? Everything alright in your new office?”</p><p>“Perfect. Almost finished going over the demands from the Demon Union with respect to vacation and job retraining. I've hired two new junior lawyers to help out in my West Wing office, too. And the preliminary studies on prisoner rehabilitation when allowed cats as support animals in the cells are very promising.”</p><p>“Excellent. I should have known cats would be useful for something eventually. … Oh, and I wonder if you'd like me to deliver a message. I'm going to visit Cain.”</p><p>“Tell him … tell him he has no idea just how privileged he is at the moment. And it's in part thanks to me that he isn't being boiled in oil.”</p><p>“Boiled in oil, hmm? We think a lot alike,” smiled Lucifer. “Oh, and you can tell Daniel I've approved his application for the Probation-Class Souls Union rep job. They'll be on motel training duty first, so tell him to strap on his tool belt and put together a crew to build a mock room or two for practice sessions.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Cain had been sitting in his empty cell for days, no Hell loop in play, all film noir accoutrements confiscated weeks earlier. The thought of a little torture was actually starting to appeal because the sheer, utter boring of nothingness was something he'd never had to deal with before. This was not a Boring like, you've read every book, tried every food, performed every kind of sex act, listened to every kind of music kind of boring. This was eternal nothingness while still conscious Boring.</p><p>“Turns out I'm a bit behind schedule, and in a hurry to get back to the Detective, so I shan't bury the lead. Charlotte Richards would have preferred to have you boiled in oil, and normally, I'd be fine with that, but thanks to Charlotte's and Chloe's prison reform efforts, we're not quite doing things that way, anymore.”</p><p>“But my hell loop ended long before any of the reforms, anyway, so doesn't that mean I'm free to go?”</p><p>“Hmmm? No. Not quite. See … there's still the little matter of you keeping <em>me</em> imprisoned for more than a year.”</p><p>“That wasn't me. That was the demons. I was just following orders.”</p><p>“Oh, now <em>there's</em> an old chestnut. <em>Very</em> popular with Nazi soldiers. … So, I just wanted to tell you that you've been enrolled in a new pilot program. One which you helped to create.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>“The Hell loop you wrote for me – it was multi-perspective. Like a television show. I didn't just live my experience, I got to see how everyone around me acted and was affected. Rather than souls just reliving whatever act or acts sent them here and focusing on their guilt, they need to develop more empathy – truly understand how they've affected those they've hurt, so they never want to make the same mistakes again. … So, thanks for that. Dr. Linda thinks it could speed things up quite a bit in advancing most rehabilitations.”</p><p>“You can't do that to me! I'd be here for millions of years if you took the time to make me relive everything I've ever done wrong from everyone's perspective.”</p><p>“I don't really see the difference. You would have been here for even longer under the old system. But I tell you what … after say, two or three centuries, we'll re-evaluate and see if we can't give you a little time off for honest effort. You'll have to do the work, though. <em>And ...</em> I've found just the right person to oversee and encourage you.”</p><p>“You're going to pick Abel aren't you? … Apparently new style justice is just newspeak for revenge.”</p><p>“Hardly! No, definitely not Abel. You're the last person I'd force him to see. Adam, on the other hand, is eager to correct all the mistakes he made with you as a child. He's been having a grand old time getting to know all his demon children. So full of fatuous fatherly advice and outdated dad jokes, he'll bend your ear for hours at a stretch.”</p><p>-0-</p><p>Lucifer strolled back out, checked the altar for interesting offerings, and then walked toward the Zany Wings, where it appeared Michael had been offering another apology to Chloe. He could read his twin's regretful look even at this distance. When he took a seat at their table, he noticed Trixie had already used neon highlighting markers to decorate a pair of the foldable cardboard wings that come with every kids meal, and was now using band-aids to tape them to the back of The King of Heaven's Habitat for Humanity t-shirt.</p><p>“They'd be better if we had some glitter glue, but that will just have to wait 'til next time.”</p><p>“Next time?” asked Lucifer. He'd seen the adjustments to her bedroom sign at the beach house, and already discussed with Michael what must have happened.</p><p>“You're always allowed into my room for art projects, Lucifer. He's your brother, and your identical twin. That means that before that he was you, too.”</p><p>“Unfortunately, that's true, Urchin. But at least I got the fashion sense.”</p><p>Both Trixie <em>and </em>the Detective glared at him.</p><p>“Just saying ...”</p><p>“You know, Luci, there's still going to be a lot of heavy lifting for Heaven down the road. Hell, too, though that's changing much faster. … Since they're united, maybe we need a new name.”</p><p>“Heavel? Helen?”</p><p>“We should keep working on that.”</p><p>“Yes. … And Amenadiel's still sleep deprived with our mewling little nephew, so it's going to fall to you, Brother. You were the one who pointed out we are partners.”</p><p>“Not only. Gabe, Raph, Remi and Rae, they'll all have a hand in it. But really, you're the one who managed to create order from chaos in the beginning. I just finessed it in the end. We'll need you to advise us as we try to update Heaven for the 21<sup>st</sup> century, but they've all promised they'll try to pull their weight. … No hairshirts, though,” he said with a smile.</p><p>“Brave new words for a brave new world,” Chloe offered.</p><p>“Indeed.” And with that Michael walked back toward the gates of Heaven. Trixie trailed behind him a few feet so she could snap a quick photo of his new wings just as he was standing below the restaurant's sign, but then Michael turned and stepped into Hell to find his favorite demon.</p><p>“And what about us, Detective?” Lucifer asked. “With all these changes, what's in the future for <em>our </em>partnership?”</p><p>“Evolving too, I think. As you know, while you've been sleeping for the last two years, I've quit the force <em>and</em> become an independent woman of property. Perhaps I'll never need to work again.”</p><p>“Oh? No more Purpose for you, Detective?” asked Lucifer, playing along.</p><p>“Well, I suppose I could turn my diary into a screenplay or maybe even a series. … Or, who knows maybe I'll just become a dairy farmer.”</p><p>His eyes grew wide and smile mischievous, “Detective! Have we discovered a new kink?”</p><p>“In your dreams, buddy.”</p><p>“You have no idea how true that statement is.”</p><p>“But an actual first date <em>would</em> be nice. Seeing as we've already begun all the sex and commitment stuff,” she said, looking down at her unadorned left hand. He'd wanted to buy her something ridiculously expensive and over-the-top. She was finished with symbols and rituals and metaphors and only wanted to focus on what was in their hearts. “With Cain off the market and your Father in another universe, I can't imagine anyone would bother trying to jinx us again.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>As always, questions welcome and comments greatly appreciated.</p><p>Hope you have enjoyed the adventure! Epilogue follows tomorrow.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Epilogue: The Checklist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sometime <em>later</em> …</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Chloe took Lucifer to Canter's on Fairfax for their 1,028<sup>th</sup> First Date. Although they had now lived together in glorious sin for a few years, sometimes at the beach house and sometimes at the penthouse, they still hadn't managed a single, uninterrupted first date. Everyone had a theory. And although life in both Heaven and Hell had expanded so much there was far less need for screen watching to fill the time, <em>Deckerstar: First Date</em>was still a favorite amongst the denizens. Adam was a devoted fan, and relished providing Cain blow-by-blow accounts of each episode's action, color commentary and betting odds on the next upcoming installment, whenever he visited his son. Cain was certain it was a hoax and all the misadventures had to have been scripted. Truth was, he was jealous no one had asked him to join the writing staff. Even Decker – known for her tiresomely thorough and mind-numbingly boring police reports – had attained some recent publishing success with her over-hyped volumette, chronicling one woman's journey through art history and philosophy to better understand humanity's relationship to scapegoats and saviors. <em>So, how fair was that?</em></p>
<p>Naturally, Lucifer's own personal thoughts on the matter of the First Dates revolved around his Father. Neither he nor Michael could explain how it would be possible, and yet they both imagined God had somehow woven something like Cain's mark into the fabric of space-time that just <em>refused</em> to let the pair of lovers move forward on this particular point, even though free will had allowed them to circumvent it all and get on with their lives, anyway.</p>
<p>Chloe, on the other hand, was fine with it. She'd accepted that given her connections to angels, demons and celestial beings, her paradigms could tumble any moment into a fisher in her mother's backyard. It was comforting to have one constant in the universe, even if that constant was the bizarre notion of an endless series of interrupted events. As long as they were all with Lucifer, she'd accept this offering from the universe gratefully. And in turn, she'd serve as an anchor, too, for a partner who – <em>let's be honest</em> – was destined to be a hot mess forever, given all that he'd endured since his Fall. She led by example. Having taken a fair crack at reforming the prison system, she eventually left those ongoing projects in more capable hands and shifted back to the other side of the justice fence to help design better training programs for the officers.</p>
<p>The restaurant was bustling; any number of celebrities in dark glasses slumming it around the edges of the room. All eyes, shaded or not, naturally gravitated to Lucifer as he wove through the tables up front, following Chloe into the cavernous back room where she led him to an enormous booth. She'd reserved it in advance, and the waitress, who had worked there for decades, just waved her toward it as if they were old pals. Everyone else was still lining up behind the Please Wait to Be Seated sign and trailing along the glass bakery cases in the front of the establishment.</p>
<p>The room had a very 1960s moderne feel, with banks of naugahyde booths, starburst style lighting fixtures and miles of formica. Lucifer slid into one side of the booth, scooted all the way to the inside wall and reclined against it as though seated on a <em>chaise longue</em>. The bench was so generous that despite his height, his Louboutin soles didn't need to dangle off the end. Chloe mimicked him, and as she did so, noticed over at a four top, closer to the waiting line, a father was encouraging his two daughters to come toward their table. Lucifer noticed, too, sat up a little straighter and fussed with his cuffs. Ever since he'd started co-habitating with the Detective and her offspring, the tabloids had begun publishing photos of him as a converted-bachelor-cum-family-man. Adults often sent over their children to take photos that previously the adults would have unabashedly taken themselves. One of the two girls was too shy, but the other approached cautiously.</p>
<p>“Is it true you're Chloe Decker?” asked the girl.</p>
<p>Chloe guessed she was about seven.</p>
<p>“I am,” she smiled. “And you are?”</p>
<p>“Teri Brooks.”</p>
<p>“What can I do for you, Teri?”</p>
<p>“Can I take your photo for my daddy? He says you were in a famous movie here.”</p>
<p>“That's <em>right</em>! I remember that scene now,” exclaimed Lucifer, looking around at the room once more with awe. “Why I believe this is the <em>very</em> table where Verity Chesters invited Tad Barking to a weekend party in her parents' hot tub.”</p>
<p>“Would you like to be in the photo, too?” Chloe asked the girl quickly, trying to will away her own reddening cheeks.</p>
<p>“No, but can I take one of Mr. Morningstar for my mommy, too?”</p>
<p>“Of course you can, darling.”</p>
<p>And a few clicks later, Chloe and Lucifer thought they were in the clear, their date night interruption out of the way early on.</p>
<p>“Even before <em>Hot Tub</em>, I used to come here with Dad. Sandwiches were our thing. Whenever Mom was filming nights or on location, he would take me for a sandwich for dinner.”</p>
<p>“Hence your affection for Hawaiian Ham and Egg and Grilled Cheese.”</p>
<p>“Among others, yes. When he died, though, I pretty much stopped. I mean I make the Hawaiian sandwiches at home because they're easy, but I've never hung out at any of the old places. Many of them are gone now, anyway, but that day, when you finally woke up … when Linda had ordered the take out from here, it kind of got me to thinking. Maybe it was time to consider a return visit.”</p>
<p>“Well … I think I'll let you order for me, then.”</p>
<p>Chloe did. Two hot pastrami sandwiches, hand cut, on rye bread with an extra large side of onion rings and two chocolate shakes – just as her character had in the movie with Tad. After Lorraine took their orders, and promised to bring waters, too, the phone rang. Lucifer stared at it comically. It wasn't a cell phone, but a beige analog mounted to the divider wall of the booth. The ring was not being reproduced by an electronic chip, but rather from an actual bell inside the casing. It was the only one remaining in the restaurant, the others removed from their booths years ago when iPhones became a thing, but this one was preserved as part of the Chloe Decker Booth.</p>
<p>“Well, aren't you going to answer it?” asked Chloe, so he did.</p>
<p>“Hello?”</p>
<p>“Duck down.”</p>
<p>“Mazikeen?”</p>
<p>“I said <em>duck</em>!”</p>
<p>“Detective, get down!”</p>
<p>The pair of them both slid until lying flat on their backs on the benches, their faces turned slightly so that they were looking at each other from under the table top.</p>
<p>“What's going on?” asked Chloe.</p>
<p>“No idea.”</p>
<p>A second later, Chloe realized that a shirtless man, who had been sitting in the booth behind her, was now standing on his seat. He'd stripped off most of his clothes, though he was still wearing a pair of swim trunks.</p>
<p>“Don't you see?” he shouted at the patrons while waving a very convincing looking water pistol in the air. “It should have been me! <em>I</em> was the one Verity invited to her parent's hot tub. Not some half-in-the-bag, British wannabe! And now it's time for me to – ugh!”</p>
<p>While Tom Cygnet, aka Tad Barking in <em>Hot Tub High School</em>, had been winding up for the swansong monologue of his lackluster career, Maze had crawled around the bank of booths, until she was crouching near his feet. One jab to the Achilles and he was down.</p>
<p>“You wanna do the honors, Decker?”</p>
<p>“Oh, Detective, here,” said Lucifer pulling a pair of handcuffs from his inside suit pocket and offering them to her under the table.</p>
<p>“You know, … I think I do. Even if it isn't official. Just for old time's sake,” said Chloe, taking the cuffs and rising from the bench. “Tom Cygnet. You're under arrest for ...”</p>
<p>“Luci?”</p>
<p>Lucifer noticed he still had the telephone handset pressed to his chest with his right hand, brought it to his mouth and adjusted the dangling, curly cord that was tugging from above the tabletop, away from his face.</p>
<p>“What is it Michael?</p>
<p>Michael had called the <em>actual</em> unis on his own mobile moments earlier as soon as the former B-list actor had stood up, so that Tad Barking, who was more than a little mad, would be hauled away properly as dozens of onlookers snapped photos. But Maze had handed <em>her</em> phone to him as well, the moment she began crawling around the banquettes.</p>
<p>“Look up.”</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Look. Straight. Up.”</p>
<p>Lucifer did, where his eyes met the height of bad kitsch. A vast ceiling hung suspended above, composed of hundreds of two-dimensional boxes filled with a repeating pattern formed by smaller versions of the same repeating pattern. At the heart of the pattern was a single photograph printed on some sort of clear plastic, so the ceiling was functioning like a set of slides, lit from behind by florescent tubes. Each of the squares framed the image of an autumnal tree, the leaves mostly golden but with hints of red and green here and there, and bits of clear sky blue just visible through the density of the foliage. Where the branches showed, they cut through the original framing of the photograph somewhat harshly, though, as if they were cracks in an image that had been painted on mirrored glass.</p>
<p>“I don't know what to say … is that the most horrific torture Hell never had the balls to inflict or just a call to an endless divine meditation?”</p>
<p>“My thoughts exactly. I'm not sure there's a difference.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>It took the angels a bit longer to decide on a proper direction for their first forays into community engagement with living humans, but in the end, they opted for pragmatism and natural talents. The New Eden Holistic Health and Day Care Center wasn't nearly as flashy as the Hanging Gardens of Tarzana's Den of (Pay-By-the-Hour) Daily Delights, but it still benefited immensely from the protective stone walls and the exotic gardens that wrapped around the property where both structures sat. The fence was now covered with flaming orange bougainvillea in full bloom, alternating with pale lilac and white cascading wisteria. Intricate mazes and meandering pathways led visitors around the unofficial sacred site through herbal, medicinal, edible and decorative gardens. Gazebos were erected here and there to shelter group bread-making events, arts and crafts meet ups, epic debates or the occasional person who just wanted to sit and enjoy the moist air during a rare California storm.</p>
<p>When the Zany Wings had folded at the height of the pandemic, the angels had broken ground on the Center, intending one of the usual touchy-feely Cal retreats, however with so many front line workers needing child care, the angels instead offered a tailored service no one else was providing: overnight drop-off for young children for all those parents working second or third shift. Not only did their kids get an organic garden-supplied dinner, yoga classes and free counseling from Doctor Linda, but every child was watched over by a personal guardian angel while they completed school homework and eventually slept. The <em>Bus Ta Move</em> delivered them home the next morning.</p>
<p>At 5 a.m. Amenadiel would rise from deep contemplation and lead a series of Tai-Chi like moves for a team of ten angels who were being trained to notice potential irregularities in Time caused by a human population that was slowly awakening to how much it could accomplish in the world by merely uniting. While this was a tremendous boon for good works when it came to sharing scientific research or rebuilding communities ravaged by poverty, it was problematic at the other end of the spectrum when collective thoughts led to violence and hate. It was Amenadiel's duty to smooth these ripples, and in the traditional way of angels, he chose to do it with song.</p>
<p>True angel song involves neither hosannas nor hallelujahs. The closest humans can come to it is when Tibetan monks chant, creating three low notes simultaneously in their throats. It is an oscillating vibration that physically wallops its listeners, and for some, they can feel the effect for days. The angel version is even more profound, and that newly formed choir wielded it like some cosmic calming ray in times of extreme potential peril. It didn't take away anyone's free will. It didn't stop all the bad. But it did hit the pause button every once in a rare while, so that humanity could take a Timeout and think things through.</p>
<p>It was a responsibility he was proud to have been appointed to by Father, just before his parents' departure, just before Mother had held Charlie in her arms and kissed his forehead before handing him back. Linda had been terrified through every minute of the meeting, but she held herself together admirably for the sake of Charlie. She would have died trying to protect him if necessary, but she'd also let herself suffer in silence to allow him the possibility of a momentous benediction. It was his birthright, after all.</p>
<p>But even more than his sacred duty, Amenadiel's favorite task of each day occurred when after exercises, he returned to his son's junior size bed, which was already looking a bit too small, woke up Charlie for breakfast and then took him to the garden's sandbox to build castles with towers that all bore a not-so-odd resemblance to his brother's building on Sunset Boulevard.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>Father Frank Lawrence cried the day he saw his good friend Mery convince his son Wenennefer to reach for the handle to his door and take a step out of his cell. The younger Priest of Osiris, who had once inherited his father's position, decided it hadn't been enough, and one day Death had caught him pinching just a bit too much gold from the temple gifts. Yet lately he had been working at another donations altar with some of the demons who had overseen his imprisonment for millennia. And in the evenings Wenennefer and Mery often liked to set up a table and chairs at the end of one of the covered walkways that reached into the gardens, where they tried to teach Frank and his daughter how to play the game of Jackals and Hounds.</p>
<p>Not all were so easily convinced or resolved of their wrong-doing, though. Hell still housed many tough cases, and those who worked with the worst of the worst suspected it was a good thing they had at least 14 billion years left to try to rehabilitate them. Father Frank, dressed in his usual black cassock and dog collar entered Father William Kinley's cell – a dour and dismal space without windows – and explained he was there to transfer the Vatican exorcist to new lodgings.</p>
<p>Kinley was elated. At long last, his petitions to the Almighty must have been heard. He did not struggle when his wrists were bound behind his back, and he braced himself for both the terrors and temptations he would likely see along the corridors of Hell.</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah. Definitely the Temptations.</em>
</p>
<p>Where once splintered schist had risen from the ground in sharp and irregular formations, the stone had now been sculpted and polished to something much more streamlined and decidedly Art Deco. Kinley knew well the style of the King of Lies, and how he'd use any artifice or illusion to lead the righteous away from their goals. Father Frank paused before another door, having already climbed several flights of stairs, opened it, and indicated that Kinley should enter.</p>
<p>It was a room with a view, and that wasn't the only upgrade. A bit reminiscent of his superior's office at the Vatican, it was decorated with fine silk wall coverings, ornate wood wainscoting and 14th-century Italian paintings.</p>
<p>“You have an audience in a few minutes,” Frank said, and closed the door, leaving Kinley alone to peruse the interior, run his eyes over the mahogany bookcase shelves, noting the many leather-bound volumes. Each one was devoted to aspects of his field of study – the demonic, exorcisms, the many manifestations of the Devil. The room was not without modern creature-comforts, either. A large flatscreen was mounted on one wall, easily viewable from the comfortable, oversized desk chair or the long leather couch.</p>
<p>There was a short sharp knock and Kinley turned as the door was opened, and the Archangel Michael, in his full military regalia and silver robes, entered. Kinley stood tall, initially dazzled by the King of Heaven's wardrobe, but then he let his eyes travel to his face.</p>
<p>“I trust your new accommodations are acceptable,” Michael said. “Mazikeen, the demon who ended your life, admits she may have gone a bit overboard in Rome. She's normally much more controlled, but she does have a few weak spots -- her boss' reputation with respect to evil, suppression of others' beliefs and right to identity, torture by those not sanctioned to perform it. Seems you managed to hit all three marks. Since she's more a demon of action than words, you should consider this upgrade her apology.”</p>
<p>Kinley paused a moment, thrown for a loop by the accent, but then soldiered on in an accusatory tone, “And no wonder, for even Satan disguises himself as an angel of the light.”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes,” smiled Michael, touching a palm to his cheek. “You souls can't tell us apart. … Not <em>too</em> surprising, though. You couldn't tell right from wrong while you were alive, either.”</p>
<p>“Why has the Devil chosen to torture me in this way?”</p>
<p>“My twin brother, Lucifer, The Morningstar, is off in the desert giving driving lessons to Beatrice Decker Espinoza, behind her mother's back.”</p>
<p>“Corrupting her while young, before she can learn from her mother's mistakes. And you, Saint Michael, want me to assist in her protection.”</p>
<p>“Not at all. In fact, I suggested it. The child mentioned he owed her that favor from the time she was nine years old, and I knew he needed to get out of the office.” Michael moved over to the couch and sat himself down at the center, spreading out both arms across the back. “You see, he's been quite vexed these last several years. My brother is most particular about punishments and making sure that everyone gets their due. But your crimes cut so very close to home, he was having a difficult time being objective. You, my dear priest, have confounded him.”</p>
<p>“Yes of course. That would make sense. I don't really deserve to be here. I have devoted my life to works that promote His goodness.”</p>
<p><em>Humans like you were not just created to torture my twin, but to try the patience of saints.</em> … “Indeed you have. I have heard about … a prophecy.”</p>
<p>“When the Devil walks the Earth, and finds his first Love, Evil shall be released.” Kinley uttered it as though it were a Pavlovian response beaten into and dragged back out of him endless times since his arrival in the infernal plane.</p>
<p>“<em>That </em>is the very one,” nodded Michael. “I wonder if you realize what changes you have wrought in both Heaven and Hell by illuminating us all with that wisdom.”</p>
<p>“Well I … found it in an ancient text,” Kinley said, looking down at his hands and nodding to himself, “… somewhere in the archives.”</p>
<p>“How fortunate we've replicated your archives here in this very room. I wonder if you could find the source for me.”</p>
<p>“I … I'm not sure. It's been years, you know. It might take me time to search.”</p>
<p>“Yes, I believe it would. … Because that line never appeared in any text you ever examined on Earth. … And yet, it has come true. Take a look out the window William Kinley,” counseled Michael, who rose from the couch, walked up behind the priest and untied his hands.</p>
<p>Kinley looked down at the colorful garden below, where he saw demons and angels going about their business interacting with humans, entering and exiting through the gates of Heaven and Hell that somehow were placed just a few feet apart from each other on Earth. Eve, the World's First Sinner, and her cuckolded husband – both casualties of the Devil – were building covered walkways further and further along some of the pathways through the gardens. Suki Price was leading others on a tour, explaining the history of the site and the important works being funded by The Lucifer Morningstar Foundation.</p>
<p>“Those covered walkways lined in glass allow souls to walk among the living. The live ones can't see them, but they've been known to press a hand or a forehead against the glass, and insist they feel the brush of a loved one.”</p>
<p>“What is the meaning of this elaborate Hell loop you've constructed for me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, there is no loop. You are looking out a real window at the real world. Although there, on the flatscreen, if you care to watch a multi-perspective retelling of your crimes against humanity, we have that option available, too. It allows you to see and feel exactly how your actions affected your victims. Walk a mile in their shoes, as it were.</p>
<p>“You see … ever since you helped bring Lucifer and Chloe together, more and more of those whom were once evil are released from eternal torture every day. Our reform system helps clear up guilt and bring souls back into the light in a fraction of the time it used to take – which honestly, was <em>forever</em>.”</p>
<p>“What is this therapy you offer?” asked Kinley, turning from the window and realizing that Michael was now on the opposite side of the desk.</p>
<p>“See … and this is the part where it gets a bit tricky for you. So far we haven't been able to find a single soul in either Heaven or Hell that would be willing to work to liberate you from yourself … but … nonetheless, we are still committed to our new and evolved philosophy.”</p>
<p>“And where does that leave me?”</p>
<p>“To do more independent research … and make choices. Nowadays, we are all about exercising free will in both Heaven <em>and</em> Hell.”</p>
<p>Michael reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out a familiar ornate plumb-sized vial and placed it on Kinley's desk, then added a small leather bound diary, entitled The Book of Chloe. There was a second line of text below the larger gold-embossed letters of the first, in italic: <em>When the Devil Walks the Earth and Finds His First Love, Evil Shall Be Released.</em></p>
<p>The priest stared at it.</p>
<p>“This is just more torture.”</p>
<p>“Choices, William. We call them choices.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>The execution of Defund the Police was, of course, thoroughly botched as most things American are once they've become politicized. The police force was reduced in LA. So was its squad of forensic scientists, and despite the fact that Ella Lopez was the best, she also had the least seniority. That was when Lucifer decided it was time to announce his second retirement. Not, as the King of Hell, but as the Host of Lux. He'd finally opened <b>Lux</b> <em>Too</em>, as a club for demons, angels and souls, and to be truthful, he preferred it, because he could finally showcase more of the music he loved rather than the repetitive beats the young and sinful favored today. More and more, Lucifer was finding that he didn't need to keep pursuing all the latest thrills to keep his life interesting. All three of his former families had been restored, and that was where he was focusing more of his time now. All the new humans he might have met? Now that Heaven and Hell were joined, they'd all pass through his doors eventually.</p>
<p><b>Lux</b> <em>Too</em> was also a favorite hangout for John Decker and Penelope, who had joined her husband just at the tail end of the pandemic. She insisted he get to know Lucifer better. After all, Devil or not, he was the angel that saved their granddaughter twice and their daughter too many times to count. Furthermore, Penelope was already preparing for the role of an eternal lifetime: Mother of the Queen. Penelope had no doubt – from the moment Lucifer Morningstar compared the ease of a second round of butt sex to her grace in the face of her husband's second murder trial – that the club owner was otherworldly. So really, when her daughter insisted he was the genuine King of Hell, it wasn't such a leap of faith. Put those two items together with the fact that he was obviously smitten with her even back during that awful family dinner with Dan, and voila! Chloe Decker likely had a few decades left on Earth, but after that, she'd be crowned First Lady of Hell. It was a nice balance, too, because Penelope was also betting her daughter's former demon of a roommate Maze was headed toward Consort to the King of Heaven.</p>
<p>“Everybody knows,” Penelope would tell all the doubting Thomases in Heaven, “that's just the way a well crafted story is supposed to end – with symmetry and balance.”</p>
<p>Some were surprised the club wasn't located deeper in the infernal plane, but Lucifer reminded them regularly that even though there was finally music in Hell, the Spotify playlist that echoed along the hallways always sounded slightly off key, so he fashioned <b>Lux</b> <em>Too</em> on common ground just behind the sacred donations altar. He knew his demons wouldn't mind the trip outside, but he hoped keeping the club close to the East Wing yet not quite within it would attract some of his more conservative siblings, who were still having a hard time coping with their expected involvement in the new regime. Baby Steps, as Doctor Linda often said. Meanwhile, Miss Lopez would make a fine host for his original club, and she'd finally be able to get her bling on. Such a shame wasting a lithe little body in unflattering t-shirts and pajama bottoms, after all.</p>
<p>She made the club her own, and Lucifer would have had it no other way. Ella reinvented herself as a modern day Apothecary, researching ingredients and designing drinks, both alcoholic and not, that would work wonders for anyone's body or soul. Eve often helped, hybridizing new botanicals, and offering insights into rare plants that hadn't been considered by the herbal community for centuries.</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>It took Lucifer a very long time before he could open up and discuss with Linda the episodes of The Year That Never Happened except on Cain's typed pages and in the depths of his own mind. He didn't blame his demons who had cooperated. He understood their plight now, and he knew their suffering was all on him. He didn't blame Chloe or Eve or Daniel about the events that occurred in his Hell loop. The memories still hurt, but he knows they did not happen. He really didn't even blame Cain, because his actions made sense with respect to what was unfolding in Hell at the time, but he <em>was</em> having a hard time dealing with the truths that had been exposed through Cain's fiction. He knew it might actually take the Doctor's entire lifetime to work through them all.</p>
<p>“It was while I was there, lying on my bed in Hell, that I first started to sense the multiple strands of reality. There are only so many pieces in a proper reality, but they can be distributed in an infinite number of ways. If something keeps popping up too many times, it looks suspicious. We'd learned that years ago when fiddling with the Hell loops. One moment I was teasing you about clown masks and role play, but I had no memory of us ever having done that, and then I'd think about a picture with clown-faced mermaids that should have been hanging over my bedroom safe, but no longer was. There were moments after Eve had fallen asleep and I'd be lying awake in our bed, and I'd have time to think. I heard Chloe, praying, but what she said didn't make sense. It was as though we were living different lives. And we were. It wasn't just the difference between my Hell loop and what was going on outside of it, though. Dad had left this trail of breadcrumbs. There were times I would stumble over these little clues scattered through my thoughts. Little changes the moment one reality stopped and another began. Furniture moved about, different items on my shelves even though I hadn't changed them. The picture hanging behind your office couch there and then not there and then there again. One day I was telling Amenadiel – and Cain, as well on another occasion – that I was a delegator in Hell, a Big Picture sort of ruler, and in another I told him I had regularly supervised a mundane torture for a fairly unimportant soul. <em>That one</em> really bothered me, because I don't lie like that – <em>ever</em>. Without the whole experience and the contradictions I began noticing, both then and immediately after I awoke in Hell, I'm not sure I would ever have realized what Dad had been up to.”</p>
<p>“But you did say he finally admitted to you what he had been doing.”</p>
<p>“Yes. That's true.”</p>
<p>“And does it bother you more that you know or would you prefer to have not known for certain … or not known at all?” asked Linda, turning the little rings at the ends of the arms of her emperor's chair. Guard hounds or lions might have been chained there in ancient times. Here in the Roman Suite of the Den of Daily Delights, one might chain up whatever they liked. The Doctor had given up her office and passed on most of her regular patients to other psychiatrists when she became a full-time trainer and therapist to both angels and demons. The Roman suite was available for the next two hours, so the King of Hell blocked it out for his own therapy.</p>
<p>“As usual with Dad, whenever you learn something new, you just realize to an even greater degree how powerless you are. Even though we're free of him now, it still makes me wonder if free will has any meaning whatsoever.”</p>
<p>“Free will has always been such a huge issue with respect to your identity, I've been hesitant to bring up certain scientific aspects of it.”</p>
<p>“What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“Some strong arguments can be made thanks to neuroscience that we may not have any free will at all. That we're all just sacks of chemicals, created by chance in certain combinations, and those chemicals are almost like a computer code. It can only operate a certain way. We are destined to make certain choices in any number of scenarios because our responses are predetermined by chemistry. The results of the studies are compelling. I can copy them for you if you like.”</p>
<p>“Tell me a bit more, Doctor.”</p>
<p>“In some of the experiments technology is set up to monitor how and which parts of the brain are working throughout the test. Basically, they're looking for when and if it has made a choice. So the subject is then presented with a series of questions or scenarios and has to decide between A and B. In most instances, the observer can see that a choice has already been made long before the person finishes their deliberation. So the take home is … although it's important to us to <em>believe</em> we are making a free choice and weighing the options, we're not. We decide instantaneously, yet we invest a lot of energy into making ourselves believe that we're going through this agonizing process that somehow grants greater weight to our outcome.”</p>
<p>“I don't like that theory.”</p>
<p>“No. Didn't think you would. So I'm going to offer you the following option to consider as well.”</p>
<p>Linda paused and poured herself a glass of water before continuing. She admired the hand-blown glass pitcher. It was a copy, but a very well done copy of one she'd seen at the Getty, back when Reese and she were still dating and he tried to impress her by taking her to his family's museum.</p>
<p>“Along with these studies, there are occasionally some surprises. Especially when it comes to saying 'no.'”</p>
<p>“That's not much of a comforting alternative so far.”</p>
<p>“You and Michael are identical twins. Perhaps not quite the same sacks of chemicals that we humans are, but the same sacks as each other. Faced with the same father and the same father's rules, each of you made different choices. One of you said no. Even if God suddenly swooped back into our universe and changed the scenario, you could still do that again. … Maybe that's not quite enough to <em>prove</em> that free will exists, but perhaps it's enough for you to have faith that it <em>may</em>.”</p>
<p>-0-</p>
<p>It was late in the day, and the LA sunset had turned the sky pink, then purple, then a darker indigo. Dan and Charlotte, standing behind the donations altar,</p>
<p>watched Adam and Eve with no small amount of envy as they were putting the finishing touches on one of the new covered pathways. Lilith and her once-runt daughter Maze were sitting outside under a tree and watching the couple as well.</p>
<p>The Silver City's first human residents still had fully functional bodies and could use them carnally. Word was Adam didn't bother anymore. Eve, on the other hand, took the opportunity to sample from time to time whatever she might desire. Mazikeen, who had been told by Lucifer that in the Hell loop Cain had created for him, she and Eve were an almost-item, now tried to reconsider the understudy-cum-star of her own mother's original role with equanimity. She supposed Eve could be an option for her. No question she was hot and adventurous, but the allure of Michael was considerable, too. From the moment Lucifer had reached out a hand to her in a dark corner of Hell, raising her from a pawn to knight position, she had believed that pledging herself until the end was an appropriate bargain. However, over time she had come to realize it was less than ideal. Lucifer had leaned on her heavily, and she deserved better than to be just a consolation prize during his doldrums. A pesky voice in the back of her head asked if Michael weren't just serving as the same to her, but ultimately, she thought not. Of course he had all of the looks and some of the charm, perhaps even more of the strength (and thankfully, far fewer of the parental issues) that had immediately attracted her to Lucifer, but Michael had never been her Lord, she never his subject, and that made all the difference. Michael had viewed her as an equal from the beginning.</p>
<p>Lilith, who had been contemplating what this new garden planted with humans and demons and angels might require in terms of future viable offspring as well as whether she wanted to have anything further to do with it, noticed the clouds had finally evaporated from her daughter's face only to be replaced with a sense of resolution and serenity.</p>
<p>
  <em>So nothing, then. This current crop might be scarred, but they'd continue to rebound and thrive – even evolve – all on their own.</em>
</p>
<p>Dan and Charlotte have been so busy since the day that Charlotte died the second time, it was only quite recently that they've been able to slow down and catch their non-existent breaths. Lucifer has been saying he's determined to figure out a way to make sex an option for a future where the Detective dies and is no longer a flesh sack full of intoxicating chemicals, but only the divine soul that once animated one. Yet so far, he has no answers. As they watch Adam and Eve toiling, Dan and Charlotte lean a little closer. They know they don't actually have bodies with firm barriers, but maybe that's okay. Kissing had always proven too awkward when they'd tried, but this time Dan presses a little bit into the space of Charlotte all along the length of her arm or – is she pressing into him? Regardless, they both feel <em>something</em>. Her hands glow a little brighter, and Charlotte finally sees what several others had pointed out previously. Euphoria. Fulfillment. An understanding. A missing half returned. An indivisible oneness restored if only for a moment. It goes without saying, they both will want to explore this new option many more times in the future.</p>
<p>And somewhere far away, so far even a god and goddess might lose themselves on the journey back, two non-corporeal celestial beings smile as they see something completely unexpected from their vantage point. The 28<sup>th</sup> universe will not end with a whimper as God had long feared, <em>nor</em> will it be reborn again in a repetitive Big Bang precisely as it always has for Goddess. Instead, she ticks off the final item on Her checklist, having observed that an entirely new sort of eternity has just been ensured by <em>All </em>Her Creations.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Questions welcome and comments very much appreciated.</p>
<p>Thank you to all those who have read and hopefully enjoyed this tale until the very end. For those of you who have never died and gone to Heaven over a Canter's Deli pastrami sandwich nor spent hours wondering what the Hell they were thinking when they installed the ceiling, just Google it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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